Pivotal, Pivoting
by Enzonia
Summary: Everyone has a point where everything changed. This is about all the character you know, and when their life changed forever. Did you want to know why the Morphlings turned to their drugs? Or what Delly really feels inside? Or perhaps you want another character's perspective on an event, like Glimmer's view?
1. Marvel

**Career break up time! I have decided to reorder everything once I've finished writing, so everyone's Quinti is easier to find! Now read on:**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the Hunger Games, but I own Monopoly! IT'S ALMOST THE SAME THING! ALMOST!**

"We should go after that firebitch first" Cato says, stoking the fire in front of him "She's the one that killed off Glimmer and Loofa, and so she's the most dangerous. She got an 11, remember?"

I roll my eyes. Every evening is the same, we argue over who we'll kill next, and then we don't kill anyone. Well, we got the boy from District 10 today, after chasing him for ages. Now we have to choose who to go after next, and Cato's certainly made his mind up.

"I still think hulk should go" Clove adds. She's probably remembering how big he is.

"I agree, Thresh should be dealt with first" I say "Firebitch isn't that big, and I could get her with my spear, easy. Let's deal with the threats first"

"Easy for you to say" Cato grumbled, rubbing his belly "She blew up our supplies, _remember_?"

"We still don't know it was her!" I say, raising my voice slightly "It could have been the red-head, or the ones from the farming District. Hell, it could have been a delay trap from Techno guy!"

"It. WAS. _HER!"_ He yells "That's how she got her 11! She must have triggered them all, and now we have _nothing _to eat! She did it!"

Clove rolls her eyes, and wisely decides to keep out of this argument. Arguments in the games lead to deaths so easily. She wanders off towards the small food supply we have left and seems to look for a bag of nuts or something.

"And _how _did she do it?" I ask, standing up "How was she supposed to set off a mine without blowing into a million different pieces?"

"I don't know!" Cato shouts, standing up as well, fists clenched "But it was _her!_"

We stare at each other, and I can practically see steam coming out his ears.

'_Come on…' I think 'Let's get it over with, a fight to end all fights. We got some of the highest scores, and I'm sure the Capitol's been waiting for this for ages'_

It's true, we've been arguing more and more each passing day. The lack of food isn't helping, and I don't think moving base did either. We moved further into the forest, away from the fields Thresh has, probably filled with dangers I can't imagine. The cornucopia seemed to offer safety to us, and though I wouldn't admit it to anyone, I feel exposed an insecure in this clearing.

"FINE THEN!" Cato yells, as Clove arrives back, looking wary. "LEAVE, I'M BREAKING UP THIS PACK! GO PISS OFF SOMEWHERE AND DIE IN A HOLE!"

"I'LL DO THAT!" I yell back, grabbing my pack and my spears, turning towards Clove who looks more than slightly smug. She's probably the cleverest, maybe she planned this. "Staying Clove?" I hiss as I back into the forest "So you can be Cato's bitch"

She hisses in anger as I sprint into the trees, listening to the whistle of a knife fly by.

The Career pack has split.


	2. Glimmer

******THIS STORY IS GOING THROUGH A MASSIVE RE-ORDER! EVERYTHING HAS BEEN MOVED! For information visit 'Cato' chapter!  
**

******All the stories are 500 words long, (and are called 'Quinti's' in case you are wondering). If you like it review or don't, but please read and enjoy. If you like the style, read 'Porcelain Mask'. It's reasonable good. (You won't vomit with disgust!). I will update daily, and if you want to request some, feel free to!**

**I promised and here it is. Glimmers POV as Katniss is up the tree. As she is about to fall asleep for the last time... Thanks for the reviews! My latest chapter on Porcelain mask is also up, if you want to check it out! Review please!**

**Disclaimer - Everything is owned by China**

I shiver in my jacket. It's really cold here. I know this is the Hunger Games and all, but would it kill them to turn the heating up a bit? I don't want to die of bloody hypothermia!

Ha-bloody-ha, I'm _so _funny.

I scowl up at the tree. This is _not _fair. She knows we're going to kill her, and doing this will only make Cato angrier, and that will not lead to a nice, clean death for her. I kick some leaves moodily.

It's hard pulling off sexy when you're half-freezing to death.

I glance up at her. I think she's asleep. I want to sleep but I'm supposed to be guarding her, and Cato would probably kill me if she escaped.

I glare up at the tree. Where does she think she's going to go? Down? To face 5 Careers and your opposing District partner?

I still don't get why he joined, but Cato said he's in, so he's in. You don't argue with Cato. She can't go anywhere, except into Cato's sword.

I'm still angry I missed her with the Bow and Arrows, it's not really my thing but it's not _my _fault Marvel took all the spears, and the only other long range weapons are throwing knives, but Clove says that throwing knives are _her _thing, and so Cato says no-one else can use them. Cato _definitely _fancies Clove, but not really the best place for it, is it?

I yawn now. It's probably 4 in the morning, but if Cato says something then bloody Cato_ gets_ something.

I'll hardly be able to kill her if I can't keep my eyes open, will I? I don't think I will get her, as I did get the girl from 7, and the boy from 7 ("Matching Set" Marvel said).

I think Peeta might want to kill her, because I can't think of any other reason why you'd join a group of people set on killing your district partner unless you wanted to kill her too.

* * *

I try to remember some of the other tributes.

There was that massive one from one of the farming districts. Tash or something.

And that limping boy from one of the crapper districts as well. I smirk, that tribute's going to be dead within the hour anyway, he'll fall victim to one of the mutts. How do I know this? The Capitol doesn't like disabled kids in the games. The blind kid from last year? Killed by a mutt 10 minutes in. Armless boy? Same fate with a cow. A _cow!_ Your fault for coming from 9. Or was it 10?

I glare at her again, asleep in the tree. How come _she _gets to sleep? And if she's asleep, it means she's not going to come down here, and it's not like she's going to kill us in our sleep is it? She hasn't got a weapon!

I yawn again.

I'll go to sleep; she's not going anywhere, is she?


	3. Clove

**This was asked for by 'TheSecondMockingjay', and here it is. See? If you ask, you might get. Enter, Clove.**

**Disclaimer - May contain nuts.**

There are 6 of us left; meaning 4 Districts could win. The Ginger-one, The Massive-one, The Lovers and us. Me and Cato.

Which leads us to where I am now.

Lover-girl/Fire-girl/_Bitch-who-just-fucking-shot-me _is at the table, grabbing her bag. She'll be gone soon, and I'll have to tell Cato she escaped.

Hell no!

I chuck a knife at her before she can shoot me again, and it misses, just grazing her forehead. It's enough though, and she staggers, her shot going wild.

I take my chance and run at her, and knock her to the ground. I pin her down. Don't want her escaping and killing me, do I?

As it's the final 6, the Capitol's expecting a show, and I'll give them nothing less.

"Where's your boyfriend, District 12? Still hanging on?" I ask, not that I care.

"He's out there now, hunting Cato" she replies. Liar, he should be barely conscious now.

Before I can continue, she screams "PEETA!"

Fear courses through me, and I slam my elbow into her windpipe.

That shuts her up.

I begin the game that will cumulate in her death.

"Liar. He's almost dead; Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up some tree while you try to keep his heart going."

I grin to myself. Only 2 left after I've got rid of her, killing 2 birds with one stone. Unless she got him medicine, but the Gamemaker's wouldn't allow that…

The bag!

"What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover boy? Too bad he'll never get it." I consider using the knife I have now, but decide to make a show of it, getting out the sponsor's gift to me.

"I promised Cato that if he let me have you, I'd give them a good show." I say tauntingly.

She's struggling now, desperately trying to unseat me. It won't work, I'm too strong.

"Forget it District 12." I tell her, fingering the knife. "We're going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally… what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue? Well, first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll just let nature take care of Lover Boy. "

He won't last long, as I said; Cato knows where he cut him.

I wipe her wound with my wrist.

"Now where to start?"

I examine her face, like the canvas I like to paint on at home. A small stab of revulsion hits me about what I'm going to do, but I ignore it.

"I think we'll start with your mouth."

She doesn't talk. She thinks she can keep her dignity and not scream.

They all thought that.

"Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?" I ask.

She spits blood and spit at me, and I feel rage explode inside me.

"Right then" I snarl "Let's get started."

I dig the knife in above her top lip, fury my master now.

* * *

A shadow looms over me.


	4. Cato

**A countdown chapter through the eyes of our resident psychopath! This chapter's been published later due to me writing the latest chapter of 'Porcelain Mask'! Give it a day or so for me to put it out though. Anyway, enjoy! **

**Also, re-order begun! The latest 5 will be at the end, but the other will be ordered!  
**

**Disclaimer - Disses are more fun that Dis, so I'll add a diss anyway.  
****Person A - Hey, I've been thinking-  
****Person B - That's a change.  
****Person A deserts Person B, never to be their friend again.**

* * *

This is what I've been waiting for all my life!

The Hunger Games!

The countdown's going to start any second now, after this tube I'm in sends me up to finally take part! Obviously, I know what I'm going to do, find Clove, Glimmer, Marvel, Loofa and Goby. We can start this Career pack off with a bang! I'm practically hopping up and down in my tube; pretty glad no-one can see me, because that would ruin my image.

Cato, killing machine from District 2, hopping with excitement like a 6 year old girl.

And then, _finally_, the tube begins to rise.

As I was hoping, the scenery is full of trees, just like we trained for.

And then the countdown begins.

60… I'm here! I'm finally here!

59…

58…

57…Marvel, Loofa and Goby are near my left.

56…

55…

54…

53… I glance round the circle, seeing Clove standing opposite.

52…

51…

52… She has the same expression of suppressed glee on her face.

49…

48… The hulk from 11 looks even bigger next to the weedy boy from District 7, and they both know it.

47…

46…

45…

44… Goby's eyeing up the girl from 11, and I give him a nod.

43…

42… The nod means 'your kill'

41…

40…

39… Near me is a lake, which is good. We'll set up camp near the Cornucopia, and we'll be near water too.

38…

37…

36…

35… Now to put my mind to the actual bloodbath.

34…

33…

32…

31… I can see a sword nearby, and I'll grab that first. We Careers don't grab and go.

30…

29… We pick up a weapon and _decimate _the others, sorting through the supplies later.

28…

27…

26…

25…

24… Nearby is the highest scorer of these games, the girl on fire.

23…

22… She seems to be looking at a bow and arrow, though I doubt whether she'd know how to use one.

21…

20…

19… The bastard who stole my knife on the first day is looking at me nervously.

18…

17… I put a hand against my neck and drag it across slowly.

16… He looks ready to faint, the wimp.

15…

14… I'll get him after I've got my sword, and he'll regret taking _my _knife.

13…

12…

11… I catch Clove's eye, and give her a grin, before she fixes her eyes upon the knives in front of her.

10…

9… Less than 10 seconds to go! I position myself to run, careful not to fall off the platform though.

8…

7… My heart's pumping like a drum, and I feel myself begin to sweat with the excitement of it all.

6…

5…

4… For one, short second, I wonder why I did this, and whether I'm going to die.

3… The feelings quashed a single second later.

2…

1… A wild smile breaks across my face, mirrored by Marvel, Glimmer, Loofa, Goby and Clove.

0… I run, heart filling with adrenalin and excitement.

Let the games begin.


	5. District 3 Girl

**Thank ya for the view, though more _re_views would be nice? K? Good...**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the Hunger Games, but during writing this fanfiction, I dropped my mug and broke it, and now I don't own a mug either! *cries***

**NOW BEHOLD!**

This is really happening.

I'm really in the Hunger Games. With 23 other people who want to see me dead. Well, 22, I don't think Data could kill me. No-one kills their District partner. Except Careers.

Talking of Careers. I look to my left, past the forest, to see the person on the podium nearest me. The District 1 boy. He catches my gaze, leers at me, and slices a finger across his neck. I shudder involuntarily and look away. 40 seconds have elapsed, and all I've done is worry, I need a plan, and quick. I glance at the items surrounding the Cornucopia, tents, water, packs, weapons – I don't need one of those, I can't even use most of them! – and in front of me, a small brown bag, tiny really. Right in front of me. Maybe I'm meant to have it! I look around, everyone else seems intent on either running away or running straight into the battle, I'll have _no _competition for this small bag. I position myself to face it.

_10_

Maybe I could scoop it up, and run straight back out?

_9_

Would I really be chased?

_8_

There's a knife right next to it, I could grab that too.

_7_

I could be armed. That would help.

_6_

What would the pack contain?

_5_

Food? Water? No, too small.

_4_

Poison perhaps.

_3_

I stop thinking, and just ready myself.

_2_

My heart is trying to escape my body, hammering at my ribs.

_1_

I lean forwards, I can make it, I can make it.

_0_

I sprint forwards, covering the 5 feet to the bag in seconds. Quick as I can, I swipe in up onto my wrist and turn away, quickly. That was easy! I did it! The sounds of fighting echo through my ears, and I'm halfway to the safety of the woods when I remember. _The KNIFE! _A knife can greatly increase your odds here, just for finding food, making shelter or even for self-defence. It's _quite _close to me. 20 feet away, 30 tops. I stand there for a bit, uncertain. Wiress told me just to leave, but I could regret not getting that knife. True, I could regret getting it too but if I die here, I die quickly and painlessly. Later on, the Careers become more sadistic. I'd rather die now. I dash forward, back into the fray – I can almost hear Wiress begging me no – I can see the knife! I grab it and turn away. I did it! _I DID IT! _Wiress was wrong! I got it!

I am 20 feet from the woods now, 10 feet, 5…

Something grabs me by the hair, and I shriek. I feel a sharp pain behind me, where my Kidney is. The hand releases, and I fall to the ground. I look down. Blood. Stabbing.

I'll be dead soon.

I smile.

It doesn't even hurt that much.

I said I'd prefer to die here, and I meant it.


	6. District 3 Boy

**Guess who was wrong about when they were returning? That's right. Me. I returned last night and I will be leaving _again _on Tuesday. So you will get 3 or 4 more, depending how evil I feel. (Today I'd say I'm in the moral grey area.) **

**Anyway...**

**Disclaimer - I live in London. There are Olympics on. I cannot drink Pepsi in my bit of London anymore, (Olympic Park-ish area) so I am too peeved to write something witty. My wittiness is directly effected by my ability to get hyper on sugar. Coke _isn't the same _:(**

The plan's simple.

Survive the bloodbath.

Join the Careers.

Re-activate the mines.

Protect the supplies of the most dangerous people in the games.

Lie to stop them killing me.

Put the mines in their tents, activate them.

Survive, win the games and go live a long, happy life.

There are _so _many things that can go wrong though.

Now probably isn't the best time to question the plan though.

* * *

3…2…1…_**0**_

And everyone starts running.

Except me.

I stand still, watching a fight between the fire-girl and the boy from 9.

The boy loses the fight. I can't see how, as a Career runs past my line of sight, but I see him fall, and the girl begin to sprint off.

Murderers are already forming.

I glare at her as I make my way towards the battle, staying on the edge, waiting for it to calm down somewhat, while picking up a bloodied pack.

I am just standing up when a girl with pigtails slams into me, and in terror, I push her away.

_I can't die yet! I have a plan!_

She lies on the floor, weaponless, when a shadow looms over me.

I run for my life, as a large boy spears the pigtail-girl.

I can see her breathing.

I run towards the forest's edge, and hide in the bushes, thinking of my plan.

Should I go through with it? Or should I just stop now, run towards the safety of the trees?

As the Careers regroup, I watch the pigtail-girl move her hand towards the ground, where a dirtied bracelet lies on the floor.

Her token.

I look away, as she stops moving.

Dead.

And now's my time to act.

Fighting the instinct to just run away, I step out of the trees, into the sight of the murderers.

"Listen" I say, surprising myself at how calm I sound "I can hel-"

I duck as a knife flies by my head, taking some of my hair with it. The knife is followed by a person, who slams me to the floor.

_Oh god, the plan didn't work_

The girl looks demented

"A nice… _working _toy" she breathes "Tell me why I shouldn't make your last few seconds unbearable?"

I stutter the net few words "I can re-activate the mines."

* * *

They accepted me. I didn't expect it. I expected to die like pigtail-girl.

True, it was mostly to do with the boy from 12, arguing my case for me.

I am watching him guard while the others prepare to 'hunt' for others.

I just sit with the mines, fiddling.

I glance over at pigtail-girl; the hovercraft hasn't come yet, as the cannons only started a minute ago.

I look at her hand, touching her token.

_She wanted it_

I steal a look at the boy from 12, and then sidle over to the body, and I close her cold hand around the bracelet.

How can we be humans without our humanity?


	7. District 4 Girl

**The last chapter actually came out _during _the Olympic Opening ceremony! AND IT WAS EPIC! Who loved the massive Voldemort puppet thingy? I did! Though I may pretend to never be ill again, as I don't want him to turn up in my hospital o*_o***

**Disclaimer - This disclaimer may contain a disclaimer, which may disclaime, which ****may contain a disclaimer, which may disclaime, ****may contain a disclaimer, which may disclaime, ****may contain a disclaimer, which may disclaime, ****may contain a disclaimer, which may disclaime, ****may contain a disclaimer, which may disclaime...**

**CLAIM-CEPTION!**

"Iona, Iona, Iona!"

I groan as I turn over to face my little sister, Canna, who's bouncing up and down on the bed we share. I mumble something that can be deciphered as 'Shut up', and roll over and cover my face with a pillow.

"Iona, dad says if you want to volunteer this year, you've got to get up now." He pauses as though considering something, before continuing "Not that you will be chosen if mum has her say in the matter."

I remove the pillow from my face and chuck it at Tiree, my brother, who ducks, and it hits Canna in the face, causing her to squeal in indignation.

"MUM!" she yells, "IONA CHUCKED A PILLOW AT ME!"

"TOUGHEN UP!" comes the familiar refrain from my dad (followed by a shocked '_Barra_!' from my mum) which causes Canna to pout and send me an extremely dirty look.

_If looks could kill…_

Well, if they could kill, she'd win the Hunger Games, _no_ problem.

Not that mum would let her volunteer anyway; it took around two years of whining on my part (along with shouting from my dad) for her to let me try this year. Dad wanted to volunteer, but he waited to late, and he never got the chance. He sent me and Tiree to train when we were both 8 years old, to my mum's disgust.

She refused to let Canna train, and treats her like a fragile doll.

Luckily, she accepts that I want to enter, and that Tiree might next year, when he gets to 16 like me.

* * *

I clatter down the stairs wearing my reaping outfit a few minutes later, and practically throw myself onto the bench near the food. Tiree raises an eyebrow as I shovel food into my mouth.

"Don't you want to save your appetite for the capitol?" He asks, as I swallow 3 sausages at once.

"Ready your breakfast and eat hearty... For tonight, we dine in hell." I say in a voice muffled by pork.

Canna frowns at me "no wonder you want to enter the games, you're mad!"

Dad cuffs her around the head, before saying "there's no greater honour then the games, Canna"

She frowns at him, "but mum said…"

Dad sighs "Cara, what did you tell Canna?"

I sigh, giving Tiree a look. Another 'games' argument is about to occur.

Mum frowns at him "Canna's 13, she doesn't need to enter that, that, _that place_.

"I'm going!" I yell at them, as I grab Tiree and Canna, and we leave our parents to shout at each other. Again.

* * *

"And the female tribute for the 74th Hunger Games is… Eilean Tigh!"

A large 18 year old girl steps up, red hair swaying from side to side.

I take a deep breath and shout,

"I VOLUNTEER!"

My mum gives a small sob as I step forward, onto the stage.

I shout my name "Iona Fladday, future victor for district 4!"

That's when they start to clap.


	8. District 4 Boy

**Thank you! I have almost half as much reviews as my other story, in around a quarter of the time! Next up is District 4 boy, though Glimmer's coming next! Also, the next chapter of my other fanfiction, 'Porcelain Mask' is coming out today! Read it! It's quite good!**

**Disclaimer - Please don't sue me, I spent all my money on merchandise!**

I never did fit in with the Careers.

And it was her fault.

I got a 7 in my private sessions.

A _7._

The tiny girl from 11 got higher than me, and all of the other Careers. They laughed at me.

I still don't get it, I did everything I could, I stabbed, speared, sliced and diced those dummies until nothing but sawdust remained. What had a tiny girl like that done to beat me?

I was the best, everyone told me!

And now to prove them right; and the gamemakers wrong.

I'm going to kill that girl.

I'm chasing her now, I didn't even grab a weapon from the Cornucopia, I'm going to kill her with my bare hands. The others, Drip, Cato and Clove, are probably still fighting at the Cornucopia. I'll be back later. After this _easy _task.

The field is full of wheat, blowing lazily from side to side, possibly concealing traps, but I don't care right now. Traps don't discriminate between friend and foe, and so if I follow the girl's tracks, I won't get caught.

She will.

And I'll be there to claim the kill.

She's ahead, bounding across the wheat like a gazelle, leaping obstacles I can't even see.

_She's fast._

_But I'm faster._

I'm gaining on her, seeing her bouncing hair near closer. Almost within my reach. If I could grab it, she couldn't escape. She'd fall into the wheat and never wake up. _Then _who'd have the higher score? Huh?

I reach out my arm, and my hand brushes her ponytail, I ready my fingers to grab, to make the final move, to cement myself into the Career's pack, when something jerks me back, like a hook has pulled me from around the waist.

Winded, I am pulled to the floor. In the distance I can see the dark hair bobbing away, out of my reach. My breath returns, and I swear loudly. I only know one person as strong as that, and that's Cato. She was _my _kill.

But it isn't Cato who's standing above me right now.

It's the behemoth from 11, the district partner of the girl that beat me. Named Thresh or something.

And there's no confusion as to why _he _got a higher score than me.

Standing over me, he looks about 8 feet tall.

"Please don't kill me" I whimper.

It's fake, we all learn this at school, the weaklings from other Districts don't want to kill, especially if you make them feel guilty. It always works.

Except it doesn't. I see that now.

I leap aside, grabbing him around the legs, trying to pull him down.

_He's strong._

_But I'm stronger._

He picks me up with one hand and throws me, hard. I fly 5, 10, 15 feet and land in some squelching mud hidden in the wheat. I leap up.

I'm not defeated yet.

I grab a stick lying beside me and charge him.

_He's good with a sword._

_But I'm…_

Dead.


	9. Foxface

**This was one of the first ones I actually wrote! I've kept forgetting to put it up. So read my favourite character's Pivotal Quinti! In case you were wondering, yesterday's Pivotal moment's character was based on me, and the weird little things I do. Otherwise known as everything! :P**

**Also, I am sorry for the abomination that is this disclaimer, I made it up as I went along. Freestyle rap!**

**Disclaimer - Dis is a rap 'bout dis disclaimer**

**No ownage is mine, don't make the books lamer.**

**I don't own the Games but if I did.**

**Finnick'd made it through to see his kid!**

* * *

**Dis is a rap, but not well written**

**Made it up on the spot, hope you're smitten**

**with it cause I like to make you laugh**

**but sadly dis disclaimer might make you barf!**

* * *

**Dis rap is way too long now**

**Don't want us to make a row now!**

**So read and review, don't be afeared**

**'Cause this story is good, though rather weird!**

* * *

**MC ENZONIA IN DA HOUSE!**

My stomach hurts.

It has actually hurt for days, but It's gotten worse now. I've lived in District 5 long enough to recognise my symptoms.

Swollen stomach? Check

Abdominal pain? Check

Emancipated frame? Check

Tiredness? Check

Definite weight loss? Check, Check and double Check.

It's not called the Hunger Games for nothing. I stand, stomach grumbling. How long has it been? Days I think. I watched the District 3 boy activate the mines. Well, I say 'activate' he only really did about 5 of them, but it wasn't really as though the Careers were going to test them. He was quite clever really, inventing some crap about 'a pattern'. The problem is, I don't know which ones are mines, and which ones aren't. I have been lucky getting here, getting back will be an issue.

I grab some food, and a small bag off the pile. The bag won't be noticed, and I think the food won't be too. It takes a _lot _of self-control to stop me grabbing that roast duck. But I am cleverer than that. I take a bag of nuts, a small loaf of bread and an apple. I'll be back.

I turn around, take a deep breath and skip and leap my way back. I was lucky earlier, when I fell, I thought I was going to die, but that mine wasn't real. I screamed too. I finish the routine and scamper back to the woods, to the bush that is my 'home'. I tear open the nuts, and swallow them all in one go. I literally inhale the apple, and the bread goes in minutes too.

I'm still Hungry.

I sigh, I don't know when the Careers will leave the camp again, I should have taken a bit more. I think a bit, I like thinking. Who set that fire? I can't think of anyone around stupid enough to, so it was probably a trap. I smile at this. One more dead Career is one step closer to District 5.

I am about to smile again when a massive BANG explodes through the Arena.

Maybe it's another Gamemaker's trap.

A damn burst in one of the games.

I can't swim.

I carefully exit my bush, moving carefully towards the Cornucopia.

I arrive in time to see the District 3 boy die, then the Careers salvage some stuff, and leave.

I scuttle out. My only food supply, gone. Who triggered the trap here? I'm hoping one of the Careers did.

The pile of debris is massive, but I manage to find some stuff in the pile. A knife for one thing, now I could actually defend myself against the others!

Maybe I can even hunt!

I laugh.

I could win this thing!

I could win!

I stand there laughing for ages, until I hear a sound from my left. What am I doing? I sprint back to the forest, and dive into my bush and hide like the fox I am.

I _can _win this.


	10. District 5 Boy

**At the moment, I'm going to go through and do the bloodbathers, and then District 8 girl seperately. That means, by my calculation, District 6 Girl is next! All of these ones are going to be pre-tty depressing though, as I had an idea of an original fiction about a school shooting, and I wrote all these little intros to each of the characters. I'm just using those for the bloodbathers, and adding a bit of contemplation in the middle!**

**Disclaimer - I hate you. And I own the Hunger Games. Aww, don't cry, I was only joking, you know I love ya really! (The bit about me owning the Hunger Games _is _true though.)**

My blood type is AB+.

Why do I know this you may ask?

I know this because I lost a lot of blood when I was 7.

I was out in the fields (yes, District 5 _does _have fields, just they're full of solar panels, wind turbines and geothermal plants), measuring the field to build a new geothermal energy plant there.

No-one ever cleans the fields, and someone was there before me, and they left their glass prodder (don't ask me to explain how they work, you wouldn't understand) lying there, and guess who stood on it?

You're right, me.

Lil old, 7 year old, midget me.

I lost a lot of blood, and I was told my blood type, though I don't really get why.

AB+. Will those really help me?

They're just two letters of the alphabet, aren't they? And a mathematical symbol.

But still…

AB+.

And then the games, where I was entered (sadly) along with the girl who refuses to tell me her name. She said 'names have power' or something equally full of bull-crap.

Anyway, I decided to do anything to win the games, and go home with my body still sloshing, full of that AB+ blood.

That's why I ran to the Cornucopia, and grabbed a sickle.

I've never really used one before, but it was the thing furthest from the bloodbath, and I really like that AB+ stuff in my veins.

I'd like it to stay there to be honest.

Anyway, I was running away, with the sickle, when I saw a small girl, passed out from a cut in her back.

District 3, I think.

She holds a knife in her hand, and a small bag.

She got away.

So close.

I need to finish her.

I can see her breathing, her chest rising and falling with oxygen and carbon dioxide interchanging in those lungs of hers.

I should finish her.

I raise the sickle and slash it into her lithe frame.

That's when I notice she's smiling.

Why's she smiling?

I step back, leaving her smiling, cold corpse on the grass.

I should really just go now, to the forest which is nice and safe.

Relatively.

But something about her smile stops me.

I don't know what.

I run back to the cornucopia, where I attempt to slash through a large boy. District 1 or 2.

He jumps out the way, and I shake my red hair out of my eyes, and go to the crates by the Cornucopia, where the District 8 boy stands.

Dangerous.

He got a high score.

I attempt to sneak by.

But he grabs my neck.

(Always the neck, isn't it?)

Bad things happen, which I won't describe to you, as you might vomit.

You remember the start of this?

When I said I had AB+ blood?

Remember?

Well currently, I am lying in a pool of AB+ blood.

Which covers my clothes, and is slowly trickling out of my forehead.

Funny that, isn't that?

AB+.


	11. District 6 Girl

**Bhah! Illness sucks. But I did get to sleep a lot! Now read the slightly-hyper-hiding-his-nervousness kid's view on the Bloodbath.**

**Disclaimer - I disclaim. Expecting something witty were you? WELL TOUGH TITTIES! BWAHAHAHAH!**

They made the Games start in the morning.

Seriously, how sadistic is that?

My last day on earth and I can't even have a proper lie in! At least I get that back home!

I probably have more pressing issues to deal with, but for some reason, that's the most pressing issue in my mind at the moment.

The morning, seriously?

I mean, what possessed them to put a fight to the death at a time when most of us would still be asleep, having dreams about kittens or rainbows or something.

I pretend to stifle a yawn as I stand and wait on my plinth, wondering whether they'll have coffee in the Cornucopia. That'd be worth running to.

*Get my coffee or die trying and all that crap right?*

I'm practically bouncing up and down on my plinth now, watching the timer slowly tick down.

Probably to my death, but I'm a bit too sleep-deprived to care that much at the moment.

I remember the girl from a few years back who dropped her district token, exploding things everywhere.

Ew.

I then try to not remember that, by focusing on happier things.

Like my impending death.

_*Yay!*_

If I was in a normal mood at the moment; and not feeling incredibly hyper _and _incredibly tired at the same time, I would probably be doing the sensible thing and preparing to get the hell out of here, straight for the trees.

But I'm not really feeling normal.

I'm in what my parents call my 'invincible!' mood.

The last time I was in this mood, I jumped onto a train going at 200 mph for a dare. I got stuck on it for about an hour, and when it arrived at the station, I had to jump on another train to get back (train going at 200 mph goes for 1 hour, travels one _hell _of a distance.)

The time before I jumped off the roof of the house.

Lucky we're so poor we've only got one storey, right?

And so I'm in that mood again, and I'm hyped up on sugar too.

They have a lot of that in the Capitol.

I try to take calming breaths. The news of my near approaching death is making me stressed, which is making me go hyperactive/slightly mad.

I close my eyes to prepare.

I might die soon, so I should really, _really _have my wits about me. Don't want to die in my 'Invincible!' mood do I?

But I can never calm myself down, not when I'm this puffed up with adrenalin and badly disguised fear.

Marvel's looking at me now, like I'm a slab of meat for him to butcher.

My sister always said I used to disguise my anxiety by cracking inappropriate jokes.

Oh, simply _**Marvel**__lous._

What? Didn't say they were good jokes!

I snort in badly disguised laughter and he scowls at me.

I flip him the finger.

Most likely a bad decision.

I was never a morning person.


	12. District 6 Boy

**District 6! Now, who here likes Zombies?** **You? You like Zombies? Then read Porcelain Mask! Now with added Zombies for that extra 'crunch'! OK, you're going to read it? Good...**

**Disclaimer - I own the Hunger Games series. They are sitting on my wall right now in fact. But I don't _own _them, otherwise I wouldn't have to pay over £20 for the entire series! **

Training sessions are never televised to us in the Districts, and I even doubt the Capitol gets to see us train, though the gamemakers do come through, going round us and watching us learn how to kill each other in 101 different ways.

I've been avoiding the Careers well, as I really don't want to die at their hand. I think that if it came to being killed slowly and painfully in the most sadistic manner possible, or drifting into a peaceful, final, sleep, after ingesting nightlock or some other deadly toxin, I would chose the later option.

I don't want it to come to that though, hence the training. I came down here this morning, and I have decided to learn how to use a knife. Knives are the most common instrument of death in the Arena, and I'm hoping to not have to go into the thick of the fight at the Cornucopia to get a weapon I am capable with.

The Careers are there though, or at least, the biggest, Cato.

I try to sneak behind him, and the trainer begins to teach me the basics of using a knife.

He seems really bored, and he probably is. How many times has he repeated the same instructions to the other children here?

Sorry our _deaths _aren't interesting enough for you.

I discover, to my happiness, that I'm not actually that bad with a knife, and I can use brute strength to my advantage, and by the end of the hour I can beat the instructor in a fake-knife fight.

Maybe I _do _have a chance in these games.

Cato stands next to me, not even looking at me.

He's good, better than most I've seen in the games. His aims a bit off though, but his district partner definitely has an edge there. I watch him tackle a dummy to the ground, and stabs it, hard.

I wince. I _really _don't want to be on the sharp end of that knife in a few days.

He puts the knife down, and turns to examine the dummy. Or what's left of the dummy.

As he does so, a small girl, with skin the colour of chocolate, darts forwards, grabs Cato's knife, and runs off.

Completely bemused, I gape at her in shock, as she goes and scurries up the climbing station like a monkey.

That's when Cato turns around again.

"You steal my knife?" He growls

"N-n-ooo" I stutter back, backing away.

That's when he punches me. Ouch.

Blackness.

When I come to, I am filled with dread.

He's going to target me in the Arena.

I'm going to die, aren't I?

I. Am. Screwed.

**Thanks for reading! Now go read Porcelain Mask :(**


	13. District 7 Girl

**The problem with multiple chapter Fanfics is that I am running out of witty disclaimers. I have to make these up during maths now! OK, it's still better than maths though...**

**Disclaimer - Warning. May contain nutty author.**

**(I might have done that one before)**

I can feel my heart beating, so loudly it's a minor wonder in itself that no-one has noticed, that I haven't be found yet. I try to calm myself, but it only speeds up in response, the threat of death sending it into panic.

I, strangely enough, am calm.

The Bloodbath was pretty uneventful.

No, it wasn't.

But to me, it was. I had a pretty close call with the boy from 1, when he stood over me with a spear, while shock held me down.

I came to my senses quick enough to roll myself out of the way, and the spear pierced the mud instead. His knife already had blood on it when he came after me.

He had already killed.

I ran to the Cornucopia, and got myself an Axe, but the second I got there, a knife flew out of nowhere, hitting my hand and causing me to cry out in pain and drop the axe. I sprinted out, not caring that the person who threw the knife at me could do so again. I just wanted out of there.

I was stopped by the District 3 boy, who was also weaponless. In a panic, I tried to run through him, he was so small. I couldn't _kill him!_

He looks terrified, and he shoves me, hard, sending me sprawling to the ground.

That was when the boy with the spear came back.

The spear sliced through my stomach, leaving a trail of pain behind it.

I felt like screaming, but when I opened my mouth, only a trickle of blood came out.

Satisfied, the boy left, while I closed my eyes, and tried to pretend to be dead.

The bloodbath is over now. If I was found alive, my last few seconds would be unbearable.

Why couldn't Marvel just do his job properly?

I feel so much anger at him, not because he injured me, but because he left me alive.

Do I really hate life that much?

I hate the last few minutes.

Shockingly, lying in a pool of your own blood can make a person feel that way.

I listen to the sound of my heart frantically throwing itself around my ribcage, desperate to follow my blood, which is long gone, dribbling slowly out of a spear-shaped hole in my abdomen.

I can feel my breath slow too…

And I feel my body relax, knowing I am going to go into death in this (relatively) peaceful manner.

This is the way the world ends…  
This is the way _my _world ends…  
This is the way I leave the world…  
Not with a bang, but a whimper.

My mum always quoted from that poem, she loves poetry, and rolled my eyes when I misquoted it, like now.

God, I'm never going to see her again, am I?

I'm going to bleed out in this godforsaken hole instead.

Is it like this?  
In death's other kingdom  
Walking alone

I wish.

I wish I could just…

* * *

**Competition time!**

**Now, thanks for latest reviewers: **

**'265' (Again :P Hello Molly *Waves*)  
****Glitchmob9 (What's with that name, because I have no idea what it is supposed to mean.  
****AbbeyMellarkAlway (Is your name Abbey by any chance? Anyway, thanks for all the reviews!),  
****Preci0usGem1 (That '0' reminds me of O_o, best emoticon _ever!_)  
****LilyDistrict4 (Repeatedly :P. Again and again, MAKE IT STOP *cries* OK, ignore that...)  
****TheSecondMockingjay (Glad you like Clove!)  
****The Fancy Unicorn (Loved 'Dear Fanfiction' by the way),  
****PhoenixGryffin, (Care of Magical Creaturs just popped into my head!)  
****Don't Call Me Sparkles. (SPARKLES! HA! I JUST CALLED YOU SPARKLES! WHAT YA GOING TO DO ABOUT IT SUCKA!)  
****Threshy, a guest reviewer who left their name!  
****Hoperedrock (I have _no _idea what that name means either.  
****Oxenstierna D. Yuki-Rin which I copied and pasted because I am rubbish at spelling.  
****Many guests, get an account, it's really cool on this website!**

**Reviewer of this-time-period-because-I'm-too-lazy-to-set-a-date is...**

**AbbeyMellarkAlways! (My best friend's called Abi, which is sort of similar)**

**I went to read your stories, I _really _liked Embers and Maple Leaves, but there's only one chapter *scowls* Write more! Now thanks for reading!**


	14. District 7 Boy

**It's almost over! *sniff* I've got Rue, Thresh, Finnick, Marvel, Cato, District 9 boy and some other Capitolites! BUT IT'S ALMOST OVER! It's sad, so sad, WHY CAN'T WE TALK IT OVER?**

**Disclaimer - And it's getting more and more absurd indeed. I own not, you sue not.**

I heard that when you're life's about to end, everything slows to a halt, and you remember all the details, or that your life flashes in front of you.

Nothing like that happened to me.

I ran to the Cornucopia, like a good little sacrifice to the Capitol's cause should, making sure to try to survive as long as possible on the lifeblood of others.

I'm sorry, do I sound bitter?

Because I am.

I grabbed a spear and lashed out at everyone who came to close to me, like I was expected to do by the Capitol. I managed to get a sickle to the throat too, and I just kept going, fuelled by adrenaline. I wanted an axe. I'm from District 7, it's pretty obvious I wanted an axe; axes would have been what saved me.

I looked for more weapons as the spear had vanished into oblivion, just like what was going to happen to me. I found my _precious _axe in the pile and went to look for more people to kill in order for me to survive. I saw a body splayed out on the ground near the forest as I scoured the edge for more weapons. She was dead, an eerie smile stretched across her face as if she knew more than everyone else.

In the end she _did _know more than us all, not that we knew it at the time.

And so I ran back to the fight, instead of going forward in to the forest to hide. I went because I thought I could remove more opposition. I went back even though I knew I could die.

Perhaps I did know the same things as the girl from District 3.

I picked up a pack, and didn't stop to check what was in it. I kept picking things up, not sure if I even knew what they were, let alone knowing them. They probably did nothing but weigh me down, but I didn't know that then.

And so I ran after a girl with a braid to kill her, because some people I never met decided that this was a good idea. I'm still not sure whether I wanted to or if it was just the urge to survive. I'm hoping it was the later, but I've learnt that hopes and wishes are just fancy names we give things that will never happen.

I mean, how many people _hoped _or _wished _that they weren't going to be in the games, or weren't reaped, or weren't lying in holes in the ground 6 feet deep?

Back on track now, back to my death.

She tripped over and fell to the floor, and I approached her with my axe held above my head.

And then somebody threw a knife into my back.

I fell to the floor, blood pouring out my back.

And that's when I died.

Going into the great beyond without actually killing anyone, despite the best efforts of others to make me do so.


	15. District 8 Girl

**I skipped District 7 Boy, because I have officially run out of bloodbather death ideas, and I have moved on, but I'll go back! The notes at the end of the first chapter was a message, cause I love y'all! Anyway, read on, and READ PORCELAIN MASK! K? K.**

**ALSO, OVER 100 REVIEWS! THANK YOU ALL**

**Disclaimer - Every day I'm disclaimering**

**Do do do, dododo, do do do, dododo**

**Disclaimering, Disclaimering...**

I got out, _I got out!_

Those are the only thoughts rushing through my head right now, and my heart pumps from all the exertion. I got a pack, and I even managed to kill…

I bite my lip, trying not to remember the boy from District 7. _It was an accident. _I think viciously, I was aiming for Glimmer, the irritating _bitch _who stole my supplies at the Cornucopia. I managed to rip some of her hair out though.

I slow down a bit, now I've trekked through the forest for a few hours, and am now probably far from most of the danger that surrounds me. I shiver, my breath is beginning to mist in front of my face. It's pretty cold, but I can't stop now, I need to get as far away from the Careers as I can, because any death from them will not be a nice one.

* * *

Night has fallen thickly now, creating a cloud of black that prevents me from advancing much further.

_I should camp now, and try to get some sleep._

I settle down in a clearing by a willow, wondering whether to climb it or not. I decide against it, my thinking being that my hands are too numb to do anything other than shiver at the moment.

_Now what?_

I hadn't actually worked out what I was going to do if I survived; I was sort of thinking I was going to die in the bloodbath, being an _extremely _optimistic person.

Maybe I could open my pack?

I empty it out, and find an empty bottle of water, a packet of nuts and a lighter.

_Excellent_.

I'm freezing cold, and fire would do me well, letting my hands open for a change.

Wish I had a weapon though.

I take out the lighter with trembling hands, dropping it once or twice in my cold, frigid fingers. I finally manage to hold it steady, and take 5 minutes to flick the little button on the side, sending a spurt of flame out the top.

Grinning, I put the flame to the branch, the flames growing. I was always a bit of a pyromaniac, and the fire-making station was my favourite, and the one I did best at. I _get _fire, and I can do almost anything with it. No idea where I learnt that in District 8, maybe I was born with it.

I settle down beside the fire, letting the warmth embrace me, and feeling my fingers thaw slightly.

Planning for tomorrow in my head, I hear the rustle of a branch behind me, from the willow tree. I smile as I remember the Mockingjays I heard on the way here, flitting amongst the trees and singing. I could never sing, I sounded like a dying cat half the time, while the other half of the time I sung bad enough to _kill _a cat.

Maybe I could get through these games, and get back to District 8.

Anything's possible, right?


	16. District 8 Boy

**Thanks for all the nice reviews! I hope you like this one too! If you do, alert and review! There's more to come! I might go down to 1 a day though, as I'm only writing 1 a day now! Read my other fanfiction too, Porcelain Mask. It's not that ****atrocious!**

**Disclaimer - I own only too much Hunger Games merchandise, not the actual idea. Though I do own these characters, and if you steal them I will hunt you down and kill you.**

I am going to get into the Career alliance. I know it.

I have 60 seconds until I prove myself, but prove myself I will. People from District 8 hardly ever get in the alliance, and still during the training sessions I had been approached, and asked to join. I was good with a spear, I was a natural. I was also strong. I think Thresh was their first choice, but he refused to join.

I only want to join so I can survive, I won't survive otherwise.

Then in the private sessions, I half strangled an instructor twice my size, and got an 8, better than the District 4 male, so they have to let me in.

And now I'm standing on my plinth, ready to prove myself to them. I'll have to kill some people, I don't really want to, but it's a fight to the death competition! I have to.

Then the time is up.

I sprint forward, straight for the Cornucopia, I see the crippled boy on my left, and I grab him around the throat. I squeeze hard, and he struggles back. I'm doing it! I'm doing it. I'm doing it?

I let him go; I don't want to kill yet.

I run to the Cornucopia, and grab a spear and a pack, I see the others fighting, and I ignore them. I look around, seeing the fighting couples, while people die by the dozen. I'm about to go and help Cato, or perhaps just leave, when something grabs me around the neck and pushes me to the floor.

The District 5 boy, I recognise his red hair, like the female from his District. I throw him off me and grab his head, and I slam it into the crates by the Cornucopia again and again, until his red hair is impossible to see through the blood seeping from his head.

I drop him in horror, I killed him.

But it makes me feel powerful too, and I spin around, blood pumping.

I tell myself I am doing this to get into the Career alliance, to survive, but it isn't true.

I see Thresh, holding a pack. They wanted him, not me. I'll show them, I'll show them that _I'm _the better one, I'll kill him.

I hold my spear in front of me, and I charge at him, he turns and sees me, and I realise slightly too late that he has a weapon as well as a backpack. Oh well, I can beat him.

I can beat him.

He holds the backpack in one hand, and as I try to stab him, he swings it back and slams it hard into my throat.

I fall to the floor. I can't breathe.

I can't breathe.

He then holds his sword back and thinks for a second, hesitating. That's a good thing, maybe he won't kill me. _Please don't kill me. _As I struggle to breathe, he decides, raising his sword up and aiming for….


	17. District 9 Girl

**I've started to write Katniss' one, and I have Prim's in my head, but I'm not sure how to write it. I forgot to write new ones last week (exams) and now my supply has begun to run low, leaving me 5 that can be published. I'm going to have a write-athon on Friday though, to bring it up to the safe value of 10 or so! Anyway, thanks for the lovely reviews, and on with my favourite part, the disclaimer! (Also, feel free to use any of them, if you acknowledge the source!)**

**Disclaimer - I've heard that you're reading now, **

**That you think I own the Hunger Ga-a-ames.**

**I heard that you re-e-viewed.**

**Guess you liked the story, and told me too.**

* * *

**Old friend, why don't you kno-o-ow**

**I don't own the books, or the films tooooooooooooo**

* * *

**I hate to turn up and disrupt your reading,**

**But I couldn't prevent it all, I had to write it**

**I hoped you'd read this Author's Note and that you'd be reminded,**

**That I don't, own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

**Never mind you'll still, REVIEEEEEEW!**

**I don't own the games, and neither do YOU!**

**Don't unsubscribe!**

**I beg!  
**

**I remember you said: sometimes a disclaimer helps**

**but sometimes a review does too.**

* * *

**Nothing compares, no hate mail or swears**

**Unsubscripters**** and flames are lessons learned.**

**Who would have known that...**

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

The interviews were the worst part for me. I'd seen them all before, all over the TV. The thought of being on one of them actually scared me. Much worse than being in the games. OK, maybe a little worse. I hate crowds. I can't deal with crowds. I like being alone.

* * *

My District partner doesn't like me that much. He said that I was rude, though I don't remember saying anything rude to him.

My week got worse from that point. Marvel from District 1 threatened me after I apparently 'looked at him funny'. I was just trying to see if his ears were lopsided or not, because I heard his District partner whisper that to Clove.

I seriously considered telling him that, but I remember what my mother kept telling me, every day of my life.

'Some things can be considered rude, I know you're not trying to be rude, but you are so just don't say anything if you're not sure the person will mind'.

I don't talk that much, because I never really feel the need to.

The next day, I shouted at the boy from 3 who ruined my camouflage. I had the colours just right. It looked just like the wheat fields I know from home.

Lunch was worse.

All those people sitting in groups, while I found my own table and contented myself with fiddling with salt packets and eating food sometimes. They gave me this pale white rice, topped with the pink-purple topping.

It made me feel ill looking at it. I pushed it away and grabbed the bread.

Around 5 minutes later I am already slowly rocking backwards and forwards again, almost unnoticeably.

I stop myself.

I don't want to look any weirder then I already do.

Or I already am.

* * *

The interviews were awful.

As I said before.

I walked onto the stage and tried hard not to start knitting my hands together. That was hard. Then the guy with blue hair started asking me all these questions. He asked me if I liked the Capitol. (I was told to lie) so I said Yes.

Then he looked at me, one of the looks I don't understand.

There was silence, and then he said "Quiet aren't you?".

I told him that no, I wasn't, and I'm often told I talk too loud. He and the audience laughed, but I wasn't sure what was funny.

I started rocking then.

He asked me if I was cold, because I was shaking. I said No.

He gave me the look again.

I stared at his hair. It was blue, but I could see the grey coming through at the roots.

He asks me something else and I cannot hear it over the murmurs of the crowd. I rock even more. I know I should stop, but I can't. I wish I could just be normal now.

If I was normal this would work, I could win.

But I'm not normal, and I couldn't.


	18. District 9 Boy

***Sob* so close to the end! Anyway, sorry that this one's later in the day than normal, I got up _really _late (I mean 3pm late). Interesting fact about this one, did you know the actor for District 7 male did the District 9 male's part in the 'Hunger Games' film? He died this way instead of how District 9 male was supposed to die! Interesting, huh?**

**Disclaimer - Did you know if you repeat the word 'Disclaimer' really fast, it sounds like you're saying 'This Cave, eh?'**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**I LIED! HAH! I JUST MADE YOU MUTTER UNDER YOUR BREATH YOU NUMPTY!**

**Hehehehehe... (ect)**

The bloodbath. Otherwise known as the death hole, or the 'place where I'm probably going to go off to meet my maker' or for the Capitol, one of the most 'entertaining' parts of the games. The word 'entertaining' is pretty much synonymous with 'lethal' and 'painful' in the Capitol's point of view which means it probably isn't for the best that I'm in the middle of it.

Damn.

I think the gong went off too, a few seconds ago. Actually, it's pretty obvious that the gong went off because everyone else is running towards the stuff in the middle and they seem to be distinctly in one piece, and un-exploded. And I'm standing stock still on my plinth completely unaware about what's happening.

I start forwards towards a pack in the middle, thinking I should grab _something _before I run away as fast as humanly possible. I snatch up a small knife before racing towards a pack nearer the outskirts. I could snatch it up before disappearing into the woods for safety. I bend down to pick it up when something (or more likely someone) attempts to yank it from my hands. Panicking slightly, I jerk it back, but the knife flies from my grip, unnoticed by my opponent. A quick glance at her gives me a moment's stab of relief. It's not a Career, I'm not going to be dead instantly.

It doesn't mean I won't die in a few seconds though.

I dig my heels into the ground and pull, determined not to leave empty handed. The girl seems to be thinking the same thing, and I suddenly recognise her. How could I not? The firegirl! I give the bag another futile yank, realising now that I probably won't get it. She got an 11 in training! How the hell is my 6 supposed to combat that?

Answer, it isn't.

So what can I do? I think quickly as we wrestle for the bag. It's probably only been seconds but it feels more like minutes. Maybe even _hours._ I tug at it again and make eye contact for the first time. I look into her eyes and open my mouth to say something to her, when something cold and searing rams into my back. Gasping with pain I fall forwards into the dirt. What happened? I try to roll over, but my body refuses, and I can feel something warm trickle down my back.

I hear a gasp from in front of me, probably firegirl's involuntary reaction, and then footsteps sprinting away from me and my murderer. If I had been facing the bloodbath, I'd be the one sprinting away right now, not lying bleeding to death in the death hole. And if I'd just spoken sooner maybe nobody would be lying bleeding to death in the death hole (except the other people I'm sure have just been murdered)

Moral of the story?

If you want to ask for an alliance, do it sooner rather than later?


	19. District 10 Girl

**2+2=... 7? Or maybe it's 6. Or mayb-What? What are you doing here reader? No, SHHH, keep it down, I'm doing 'maths homework' to the best of my parents knowledge. Shhhhhhh...**

**Disclaimer - .**

**Sorry, was that all mumbled? Well tough! Serves you write for INTERRUPTING MY MATHS HOMEWORK!**

_**Um, hi mum! Yes, I am doing maths. No, I don't know why I shouted. No, I'm not on that 'stupid fanthingy' site again. Promise...**_

**Your. Fault.**

My name is Daisy Karni.

I am 14 years old.

I reside in District 10, the richer section.

I have 2 younger siblings, Horus and Hathor. Twins.

They depend on my job to keep us all alive.

I work as a milkmaid.

I enjoy singing and dancing.

I _love _watching the cows in the morning.

I am 14 years old.

My name is Daisy Karni.

And I don't want to die.

Please god, don't let me die.

Don't let her find me.

Please.

Please.

God, I know I never believed in you before, but please, if you're there.

Please, don't let me die here, in this Arena, covered in mud.

The mud is cold, and covers me entirely.

The girl with the blond hair stabbed something into me.

I can feel my blood and energy and soul and life and hope slowly leaking out of my body, through the hole in my stomach.

She left me, for death and for dead.

But I'm still alive.

I want it to stay like that.

I don't want to die.

Please.

Don't let her come back and find me.

I know I can't expect to survive these games, but I never truly understood that I would die.

What death is.

Nothing.

The prospect of nothing, feeling nothing, being nothing, saying nothing, hearing nothing, loving nothing, never anything but nothing.

Being nobody.

I don't want to die.

But why?

If death is nothing, why do I fear it so much?

The pain that arrives in spasms from my stomach, along with my blood and energy and soul and life and hope, is surely worse than nothing. I should be grateful.

Before I was born I felt nothing, and when I die I will feel nothing so I shouldn't be worried, I've been dead for most of existence, haven't I?

Life was just a small blip, an error, a mistake, a fault, a blunder, a miscalculation by the universe.

My life, especially so.

But still…

I don't want to die.

Not now.

I don't understand, why would I want to live?

To feel the pain of this wound in my stomach?

Of life?

Of other's deaths?

Of my eventual demise?

I am going to die one day.

Fact.

Why postpone it, really?

Postpone it through the pain of these Games?

Despite all this, I don't want to die.

I don't want to die.

A shadow approaches near me, and I try to hold my sobbing in.

I don't want to die.

She's back.

I don't want to die.

I can see her over me.

I don't want to die.

She knows, she _knows._

I don't want to die.

I don't want to die

I am 14 years old.

_My name is Daisy Karni._

_I am a small blip, an error, a mistake, a fault, a blunder, a miscalculation by the universe._

_And I don't want that mistake to be forgotten, the mistake that is my life._

_Please don't forget me._

_I don't want to die._


	20. District 10 Boy

**This one was harder to write, because I couldn't find out how old the boy from 10 was! The wiki said he was 18, but I always imagined him as 13 or 14. I ended up writing him as 18, as I thought it would be best to follow the wiki.**

**Disclaimer - No-one reads these, do they? Even though I put effort into making these funny and (probably) more interesting than the actual story. You agree? Then review! And I _don't for the life of me _own the HUNGER GAMES! SERIOUSLY!  
**

**Now, random review-or-die song. Word of warning, you _will _start to sing along to this...**

**First I was afraid, ****I was petrified**

**Kept thinking 'I could never live without these reviews you write'**

**But then I spent so many nights posting 'fics without reviews,**

**And I grew strong, and I got on all **

_(And join in)_

**And so you've reviewed!**

**From outer space **(You're an astronaut? O_o)

**I just logged on to find it here with that stupid little smiley face!**

**I should have turned of guest review!**

**I should have blocked you from my fic!**

**If I'd known for just one second you'd be back to review me!**

_(Who isn't humming along right now? Really? *tuts*)_**  
**

_**Go on now, go!**  
_

_**Review no more!**_

_**Just log off now!**_

_**'Cause I ain't reading anymore!**_

_**Weren't you the one, who stopped reviewing while I cried?**_

_**I like apple crumble! And I LOVE STRAWBERRY PIE!**_

_(Random off topic moment...)_

__**OH NO NOT YOU!**

**YOU WILL REVIEW!**

**Oh as long as you know how to click, I know you'll review!**

**You've got all this fic to read, you've got all this time to waste,**

**And you'll review, YOU WILL REVIEW!**

**AND YOU WILL !**

_(Cake, and grief counseling, will be available at the conclusion of the test. Now who knows what that's a quote from?)_

It happened just before the 74th Hunger Games.

I was one of the strongest in my District, and I was half expected to volunteer when I became 18, even though I would never do it, I value my life thank you very much. I was from the richer side, though my parents died of infection, they left me their job as a horse trainer. Good pay, and safer than the other jobs. The lifting made me strong, and I would have won the games if I was reaped, I was stronger than half the Careers from the game last year, and I had survival skills that only someone from the outlying District possesses.

I could have won.

When I was 16, my life ended.

I was tending the horses, out on one of the plains near the centre of 10. I had my favourite horse, Toby, with me, and I had stopped to eat the food I'd brought with me. I can't remember what I was trying to do there, or why I was sent there to work. I don't think it matters that much.

I was eating my bread and cheese when I heard a growl behind me. There are many wild animals in 10, and the Capitol does nothing to get rid of them. I had brought a knife with me just in case, so I drew it out, holding it in front of me. Cautiously, I called Toby to me and he trotted over. I needed to get out of there. I may be strong and holding a knife, but I'm no match for a Capitol Mutt. I started to walk over to Toby when something leapt out the bushes.

I screamed, and swung my knife at it, the huge, grey animal which had grabbed my leg, trying to rip it off.

The pain was unimaginable.

I managed to stab it in the eye, and it hollered in pain. I took my opportunity and hobbled over to Toby, and threw myself over him. The animal crawled over, screeching, but I managed to ride away, trying hard not to pass out.

When I made it back to the town, I'd almost passed out, and some good soul took me to the apothecary.

I though good souls were extinct.

I really did pass out then.

When I woke up, the apothecarer was standing over me, looking sorrowful. He told me my leg had been damaged beyond repair, and I was now just another cripple in the town. And it was infected.

He also told me I would probably starve before infection took me, and I agreed with him. In our District, no-one gets food if you can't sustain yourself, so I needed to get money.

I needed to win the games.

I took out lots of Tesserae, so even if I wasn't chosen, I'd have some food to eat.

If I won, I'd be able to feed myself.

If I died, it would at least be quicker than starvation.


	21. Rue

**Sorry about not doing one yesterday! Virgin media sucks and the internet was broken :(**

**Disclaimer - So a thought crossed your mind? Must have been a long and lonesome journey. Wait, that was a _Diss-claimer_, not a Disclaimer *FACEPALM***

I found her a few hours after all the cannons went off, covered in Tracker Jacker stings. It's a wonder she's still alive actually, and I can tell that she'll be out for a couple of days. I'm assuming the Tracker Jackers were the cause of the cannons, as I saw the Careers covered in them too.

I know how to help her, and I got the leaves to do it.

I glance around to check for people before creeping towards her, chewed leaves in hand. I carefully place them on her wounds, making a note to remove them before she wakes in a day or two.

And then I wait.

* * *

I can see her beginning to move, not fully conscious yet but she will be in a couple of hours. Or maybe even minutes. I've been waiting here for her to move, living off berries and roots, it's hard to swallow compared to the Capitol's food but beggars can't be choosy.

I dart forward and gather up the leaves, dumping them in a bush nearby. And then I move towards a tree, climbing up it to wait for her to wake.

* * *

She's really good with a bow. I've been following her for what might have been hours or minutes. It's hard to tell in the Arena. She got a rabbit and a groosling too, even though she got stung by what should be _lethal _numbers of Tracker Jackers! She's just lucky she pulled out the stings or it would have been even worse.

She's settled down now, and started a fire to cook her food.

The smell is overwhelming. I haven't had cooked meat since the Capitol, and roots don't taste the same. I don't think I've even eaten since I found her comatose in the clearing. I feel the urge to just run forward and ask for an alliance right now, but I don't know how she'd take it. I saw her shoot the rabbit with such ease, and I'd be an even easier target.

She might not want an alliance anyway, and then what would she do? Kill me probably.

I shift my positioning behind the bushes I was hiding in, trying to dispel the hunger that makes my stomach ache.

And a twig *snaps* so loud it makes me think of explosions.

She turns towards the bush I'm hiding in, holding the bow up to point at me. I begin to breathe quickly.

'_I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die'_

But then she grins, and puts her bow down.

'_Wait, what?'_

I'm half-convinced it's a trap, or maybe she's still hallucinating from the Tracker Jacker stings. If she is I could just sneak away.

Then she speaks, and I feel my heart pumping like a drum. But the words she says aren't taunts or threats. What she says makes me fill with hope.

"You know, they're not the only ones who can form alliances."


	22. Thresh

**Thresh time! I'm still thinking about what to do for the others, but enjoy Thresh's while it's here!**

**Disclaimer - I have asked for ownership of 'The Hunger Games' for Christmas. It is August.**

The girl from 5 with the red hair managed to get her pack first, when she hid in the Cornucopia before she ran out to grab her pack. It was a good plan by anyone's standard, and I believe that most people were just going to run for their packs and hope for the best. That was my original plan too. No-one would follow her when _their _pack was still on the table, and so she's probably safe too. Apart from the fact I saw the boy from District 2 leave here, probably to kill those who get away, like the red-headed girl.

There's silence now, as everyone waits for the next move, for someone to act. There are 3 packs left on the table. Mine, firegirl's and the pair from District 2. And nobody's moving.

Then the sound of footsteps fills the Arena, and I turn my head to right just in time to the firegirl run forward, towards her pack. A knife shoots out from a bush on the opposite side of the Clearing, where the girl from 2 must be hiding. The knife whistles past her head, missing by a foot or more. I can't tell whether she noticed it or not, but she kept running.

As she scoops up her pack and begins to turn, I see the knife girl sprint out from her bush. Firegirl seems to notice this too, and shoots wildly at her. The arrow manages to hit the knife girl's arm, but she still manages to chuck a knife that leaves a trail of blood on Firegirl's forehead. Knife girl sprints forward, ramming the knife girl to the floor.

My time to move.

Firegirl struggles as the knife girl sits atop her, taunting her about her District partner.

I had almost forgotten he was still alive. I sneak forward, inching towards my pack. The knife two seem distracted and the boy from 2 must be hunting the red-headed girl. And from what I overhear from their conversation he's in no position to help.

I'm almost at the pack when I hear something that makes me freeze. Rue's name. The knife girl killed her? Killed _Rue?_

I stare at her, though neither of the girls seem to notice. I'm frozen, unable to make a move. Then the knife girl cuts into firegirl and something snaps inside me. She did that to _Rue_!

I fling her to the ground, and she looks up in astonishment. "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?"

She struggles, trying to scramble away from me, denying it all the way, stuttering so her words are indistinct.

My face contorts with rage "You said her name. I _heard _you. You kill her? You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

She's still denying it.

I grab a rock, rage controlling me as knife girl – Rue's murderer – screams for Cato. Must be the name of her District partner.

I bring the rock down, hard.

For Rue.


	23. Katniss

**Finally doing Katniss' as I spent all my writing time writing for 'Life and Death, but mostly death' so had no time to create new chapters! I'm doing Pivotal today though! Enjoy, and Prim's comes tomorrow!**

**Disclaimer**

**Roses are red,**

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own the Hunger Games,**

**So please don't sue!**

I can't believe it.

Only this morning my dad was here. He ruffled my hair like he does every morning, and he promised me that he would be alright. He kissed my mother and left for work.

He forgot to say goodbye.

He was about to get a promotion, to take him away from the mines, somewhere safe, he'd been working so hard, we hadn't gone out hunting for weeks.

And now we never will.

And I still can't cry.

The last few days have been a haze, with the sky changing colours, while I stand underneath, rigid and unmoving, looking up at it.

The clouds are grey, like everything here, while the blue sky is cloaked under a veil of dust. It hasn't rained in weeks, and the coal dust has covered everything here.

I want him back.

I still feel like this is all a dream, like if I try hard enough I can just wake up, and go back to how it all was.

But I can't summon up the energy now.

Even under the blanket of numb grief, I can still feel anger at my dad. He left me._ Us._

He could have come back! They told us that when they came to our door. He was a _hero _and died going back in to help the others. I wanted to hit something when they told us that. He chose the other men, people he barely knew over _us? _He more or less let us die, how are we supposed to stay alive now.

The only other emotion I can feel is guilt, for the way I feel anger at him. He died, and I'm angry at him, and I still can't _cry!_

Prim's been crying, which normally makes me upset anyway, but I just turned away went back to staring at the wall.

He died.

The stage is full at the moment, with other wives, _widows, _and fatherless children, like me.

He'll never get round to teaching me to shoot now.

He'll never find out how I did in that test, and he'll never know how worried I was at the result, whether he'd be angry or not, and pace like he does when he's angry.

_Did, _not does.

I don't care if he'd be angry now, I don't care if he yells at me for failing.

The stage is dry, creaking under my feet, and I can hear Prim sobs behind me.

She's 8, and she shouldn't understand what's happening, but we've seen enough Hunger Games to know what death is. She shouldn't know.

The man walks onto the stage, holding these medals. He wants to award us for letting him die? For him choosing someone else over us?

My hand begins to tremble by my side, and I grab it with the other hand.

My mind flashes to the mine, of him running away, while a blast rips through and…

No.

I can't let myself think like that.

That's when the tears start.


	24. Peeta

**I think that I have ideas for most, except Rue and Thresh! I have _no _idea for them! Thanks for the ideas though, as this epic story draws to a close :(**

**Disclaimer - You still think I own the Hunger Games? After reading this for almost 50 chapters? I feel so flattered...**

My mother often shouts at the Seam kids who try to steal food from the rubbish bins, despite the fact we don't need the stuff in there. She always goes on about how they 'mess up' the rubbish, as if they were foxes.

Tonight was no exception.

I was cooking the bread again, watching it carefully to make sure it wasn't burn (my mother looking over my shoulder, not trusting me to do so properly) when there was a small 'crash' from outside. The rubbish bins in the garden. Mother whips her head around towards the sound, muttering about 'trash' and 'those _animals' _while she storms out towards the source of the sound. She has begun to shout when I reach the door, poking my head out to look.

It's Katniss.

She closes the bin and leaves, staggering slightly on the wet mud.

My mother pushes me back into the shop, now muttering about bad parenting and vagabonds, whilst pointing me back towards the bread.

How am I supposed to think about bread when Katniss is starving?

I stare at the bread lying on the tray, and glance over at my mother, who's still checking out the window to make sure that her _precious_ bins were still in pristine condition. I look back at the bread, thinking hard. The decision I come to is the only one I could make, and I give the bread a slight shove, causing it to fall into the fire with a dull 'clunk' and a clatter.

My mother's head snaps up at the sound, and turns to me, practically hissing with anger. While I try to look sorry, she reaches for the rolling pin beside me and wallops me around the head with it. It causes bright lights to blink into view for a few seconds, before they vanish. She grabs the tongs and pulls the slightly blackened loaves out of the fire, looking murderous.

"Take those loaves outside and feed them to the pigs, no-one will want these now!" she yells, shoving them into my arms, while I try to conceal a smile.

I step outside the door and see (to my relief) that Katniss hasn't left yet. My relief vanishes in a second when I realise that she has more or less sunk to the ground now. I tear chunks off the bread, watching them fall into the pig's pen, while the rain continues to dribble around me.

Then, when my mother slams the door behind her loudly, I chuck the bread sideways, towards the tree she's sitting under, not daring to check whether she got them or not. Then I quickly step back into the house, a smile still threatening to break across my face every second. I keep it in until I get past my mother – it wouldn't do for _her _to see me happy – and go to check out the window to see if she got the food.

But by the time I get there, she's vanished into the dusk.


	25. Cashmere

**Can I ask for help again? For ideas? Because I am _really _running low on ideas, and ideas would be very helpful!**

**Disclaimer - This is almost 30,000 words now, in case you were wondering. You probably weren't.**

I watch my fingers twist and turn in my lap, willing them to stop but quite unable to do so. I'm also biting my top lip again – no-one knows I do that apart from my brother Gloss – while waiting for the leader of the whole _country_ to come and talk to me in the office. I'm squirming in my chair slightly, but that's less about nervousness and more to do with the lack of comfort this hard wooden chair provides.

The door creaks open, and I turn instinctively towards the sound. President Snow walks in, along with the sickly smell of rose and…

Is that Blood? I should know really, as I've seen a lot of it so far in the last few weeks. As he approaches the smell increase in intensity, I realise that it _definitely _is blood. Why does he smell of blood? I shake myself mentally, and (with a large amount of effort) stop my hands shaking and remove my teeth from my lip.

"Cashmere" he says, as he seats himself down on the plush chair behind the desk.

I nod in response, not actually trusting myself to speak. I don't really understand why I'm so nervous. I've already faced death, how much worse can it get?

"Now Cashmere, do you remember your Games?" he says, leaning forward slightly in his chair.

He reeks of Blood.

Remember my games? How could I forget them? I killed several people, not that I care about that much, but every time I close my eyes, I'm back there. The images of those Mutts at the end, the teeth…

"Yeah…" I say, now beginning to wonder where this conversation is going. Because so far, I don't _like _where it's going. And if I don't like something, it shouldn't happen.

"And you'll remember your sponsors too?"

He's leaning so far forward his hair is within 2 inches of my face.

How could I forget them either?

"Yes. They saved my life" I remember the medicine I got sent within a day of the starting of the games. I'd already been stabbed and I think the others in my group were pretty close to killing me off for being ill. It did save my life.

He smiles.

That's probably not good.

"That'll make things easier then." He smiles at me "so you'd like to do something to… repay them?"

Alarm bells are ringing in my head, but I can't see where. I resume my cautious approach.

"Yeah…"

"Some of the patrons would like you to… be around with them for certain periods of time. They'd like certain _favours_"

I freeze.

That was not what I thought he was going to say.

"And am I obliged-"

"Yes. It's not a choice. You can leave now; I'll send you the details of your first… appointment."

I step out the door feeling worse than I did at any point in the game. I put my finger onto my top lip, and take it away again.

Blood.


	26. Enobaria

**Forgot to submit one yesterday :S sorry! But here's Enobaria's instead! Anyone got ideas? I've done Cashmere's but that's really it until I can think up some more ones to do! I need ideas! People who I haven't done yet and have no plans for include:**

**Marvel, Gloss, Cato, Finnick, Thresh, Rue, Woof, Chaff, Seeder, The Mayor, The Baker, Cinna, Effie, Caesar, Claudius and District 7 Boy. HELP ME! Give me ideas! There are other people I haven't written about, but I've got ideas about what to write!**

**Disclaimer - 20 left, including this, and you still think I own the Hunger Games? Fat chance!**

I sit in the tree smirking to myself, watching the small girl take more tentative steps away from the smoke in the distance. My smoke, I set the fire ages ago, at her very camp actually, I was hoping she'd still be in the tree when the fire stated. That'd be interesting. But she leapt out and ran at first but now, she's walking slowly, as though some evil predator was hiding in the treetops around her.

Which is actually true.

I've followed her for about an hour, just for the thrill of it really, and to increase the tension for the people watching. They'll be sitting there waiting, watching until I finally strike.

Which will be soon.

We learnt that back in my District, how to get more sponsors for one kill. And I'm doing the second option now, _make it interesting. _And that's another reason why I've just been tailing her, giving me time to think about it.

And think about it I have done.

Her blond ponytail sways from side to side as I leap silently from tree to tree. Or not so silently this time. The tree creaks and snaps smaller twigs beneath my weight. She whips around, looking around for the source of the sound. Her fear seems to escalate when she can't work out where the sound comes from.

'_Just look up, idiot' _I think scathingly _'I'm right here, come and find me'_

But she won't, rule 1, nobody ever looks up.

Except when they do.

She looks from left to right frantically, before turning her head skywards and seeing me silhouetted against the lightening sky.

One second where we stare at each other (while I leer), and then she turns and sprints away, no longer the rabbit in the headlights but a rabbit in flight, and I'm the hunter. I jump down from the tree, rolling slightly to keep myself from breaking limbs. I throw myself up and chase after her retreating back, much faster than she is running. She looks back, and I see the look of terror on her face as she sees how close I am and how much closer I'm getting to her. She looks like she's about to cry or scream. Or maybe both. I love it when they do that.

I move slowly, just so I can give her hope that she'll escape, before crushing her hope.

And then I barrel into her.

I breathe deeply as she wriggles beneath me. When she realises she can't break free her eyes widen dramatically and she opens her mouth wide and begins to scream.

'_Oh shut up' _I think, irritated _'Or I'll do something to shut you up'_

She keeps screaming as I watch her, interested now, as she makes more frantic (and frankly pathetic) attempts to escape from my clutches. It's funny really, watching people in their last few moments. No pleading, no begging, no fight.

Just crying.

'_I'll stop that though'_

I move my teeth towardsher throat.


	27. Brutus

**Now for the Brute that is Brutus! If you don't know who it is, GOOGLE! Yay for Google! Now, enjoy today's Quinti!**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the Hunger Games. Or a decent Laptop.**

Some other victors complain about nightmares.

I've never had them.

Weaklings.

I relish in the dreams I have, the dreams of victory for the second time.

I would do it again in a flash. And now I have the chance. Some people would kill for the chance to be the only victor to win twice. I'm going to kill for the place, and if anyone else tries for it… Bad things will happen.

I am waiting in the reaping corner, with the other 18 victors who are still alive, though 2 of them are too old to properly represent our District. I stand there, smirking, as the female is reaped. Enobaria. Good, she'd join up with me, and if we're lucky we can have a whole career group this year, unless that prat from 4 gets reaped, or the mad one. Maybe 4 shouldn't be included in the Career group. When I win, I'll tell my tributes that 4 isn't the one to ally with. Just 1 and 2.

Now for the males. I ready myself, to run for the stage first. _I _will represent and win for 2. Not anyone else. The escort pulls out a name.

"Cairn Carrick." Just my luck. An old man who obviously doesn't want to enter again.

Weakling.

I step up to the stage and volunteer, making Cairn smile happily, with withered lips and missing teeth. I scowl at him, and then at the rest of the male victors, daring them to volunteer and try and steal my place in the Glory Games. Enobaria grins at me, flashing a glance of her fanged teeth at me, I recommended to her that the fangs should have something red at the end of them, to represent the blood of her enemies, but she said it would have been more effort than needed, so she chose otherwise.

* * *

Later on, I watch the games' recap. I smile when Gloss and Cashmere get reaped, they'll join me and Enobaria. The geeks from 3 get chosen, and I smile. Dead within a day. They _won't _survive these games, even if I wasn't in them. I groan when the mad girl is chosen from 4, and groan harder when the old lady volunteers in her place.

Sentimental weaklings.

She'll die early on too.

The prat gets chosen too, so I was right, it'll just be 1 and 2 this year. We'll be stronger for it.

Drunks from 5. Both of them. Such disgraces.

The comatose ones from 6.

The one who pretended to be a weakling gets chosen too, but that tactic won't work this time.

A mother from 8, (boo hoo, _so _sad.)

The twitchy girl from 9. She's a weakling.

That one who's cousin I killed in the games in 10. I think he was Aries.

The drunk from 11.

The drunk from 12 isn't chosen, those the two lovers, the winners from last year from 12.

I will win these games, the other weaklings don't stand a chance.


	28. Wiress

**All the stories are 500 words long, (and are called 'Quinti's' in case you are wondering). If you like it review or don't, but please read and enjoy. If you like the style, read 'Porcelain Mask'. It's reasonable good. (You won't vomit with disgust!). I will update daily, and if you want to request some, feel free to!**

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games. I am currently Blackmailing Suzanne Collins to change that.**

I run.

Fast.

Behind me I can hear trampling footsteps in water, the sounds of people approaching through the fog.

_Think Wiress, THINK!_

This thought is the only one I am conscious of.

And run. Though that's more instinct, fight or flight reflex.

I've never been much of a fighter. I couldn't pick up half of the weapons.

"There she is!"

I turn around in the marsh to see 5 people working their way through the mud towards me. The Career pack.

The largest one steps forward.

"Let's make this quick, I'm tired"

He pulls out a sword and steps towards me. I attempt to move, to run away, but when I look down at the floor, I see not my feet, but my knees, slowly sinking into the ground beneath me. This is not good.

The boy looks down at me, leering, holding the sword at his side.

"You're in a sticky situation then…" He grins and lifts the sword up.

My brain is screaming at me to move, but my body won't comply. I close my eyes.

Phlup.

Phlup? I've never believed in an afterlife, but if it did exist, I'd assume it wouldn't sound like phlup. I open my eyes again, and see the boy who was to be my murderer struggling desperately against the ground pulling him in. I also realise that I am sinking quicker.

_That sound was gas escaping from the mud, meaning a decrease in density of the mud, meaning buoyancy has gone down._

Basically, I'm sinking quicker now. And the boy. Don't forget him.

His sword has already sunk down, dragging his arm further in with it. The screams he is making sends his allies scattering away. He is alone with me, writhing in the mud, like he is a part of it. I am still standing still, mostly out of shock.

_Basic logic, the body is still less dense then quicksand, it's sand right? So the only reason he's still sinking is either the fact he's struggling, or the fact he's still holding onto that bloody sword. I need to increase my surface area. _

Calmly, I lean back, and watch as my legs slowly lift out of the mud, like the hovercrafts to pick up the dead. I now start to drag myself to the small, grassy island I was running to in the first place. Slowly but surely, I make my way up.

I look back at the boy. He is still sinking, struggling to pull himself out. He's up to his neck now.

"Please" he croaks, the mud rising up to his chin. "I don't want to die. Please"

He then begins to make gurgling noises, due to the mud in his mouth.

I watch him slowly sink beneath the surface, leaving only the sword's tip above the top. Bubbles appear. Then they stop. I stand there, in shock.

I watched him die.

I did nothing.

The Gamemakers wanted someone to die.

I didn't

He did.

I killed him.


	29. Beetee

**I'm back again! Also updated is my Johanna story, but don't worry because this'll get updated too! Just go and read now, because I have NO MORE HOLIDAYS! Just non-stop updating until I run out of characters, which'll be pretty soon actually. I've worked it out as 22 left, which means into the start of my school term! :( It's almost over already...**

**Disclaimer - If you want to be my reviewer,**

**You have got to know,**

**I don't own the Hunger Games!**

**FRIENDSHIP NEVER E-ENDS**

I finger the wire between my fingers, absent mindedly twisting it around them. True, some people would have said that I could have got better weapons from the Cornucopia, but those people obviously don't know me very well. Beetee, genius resident of District 3, first person to solve a problem in any lesson, teacher's dream student, the boy who managed to hack into the school computer system for a dare and change everyone's grade to 'F's just because he was bored.

Yep, that's me. The geeky boy who could cause trouble without being detected at all.

That was me.

And I am in the Hunger Games. I managed to avoid all the swords, axes and other, dangerous pointy things at the bloodbath, darting between the fighters to get to the one thing I knew would help me survive. This small piece of wire. The others seemed to avoid me, probably because I only got a 4 in training so wasn't 'worth their attention'. So I managed to escape and come up the hill to where I am standing now, with my wire, a week later.

I'm pretty hungry too, as wires don't generate food of their own accord, sadly.

I've been sitting around most of the time, hiding whenever a Career comes near me, eating berries from nearby bushes (and insects, I've still got half a spider stuck between my two front teeth). I've been staying out of trouble. Sadly, I don't think the Capitol will let me do so for much longer, so I've decided to fight back now, before they make me. And they will make me, and I would almost certainly lose the fight. I connected the wire to a large battery my mentor sent me via floaty parachute. I really don't know how he managed to get me sponsors, but he must have convinced them that I'd start to do something interesting soon.

The battery and the wire are connected, and I'm currently stringing the wire across two trees, before I attach the battery too it. I can scream a bit and let them come running, and lead them into the 10,000 volts electrocuted wire.

Which is live now.

I look at the wire, slightly doubtful whether this will work, before I remember that this is _science_ and it _will _work. Science always works, which is one of the reasons I like it so much. However, it wouldn't be good if I got them chasing me and then the wire stayed undeadly and unassuming like it is now, so I should probably test it. I glance around, noting a piece of left over wire near me. I pick it up and curl it into a ball in my hands, before lobbing it at the live wire. A brilliant, white-blue spark burst forth, as well as the characteristic 'zap' and fizzling sounds. It's live, and properly deadly now.

"Right" I say quietly, looking at my trap "Now I just need to find someone to run into this…"


	30. Mags

**Half of the spelling here are wrong. This is supposed to be. I don't know why I did it, either because she's 7, or she has Dyslexia. Maybe both! Now don't complain about my bad spelling, it's supposed to be like that! Mie speeling is pefrect!11!111!**

**Disclaimer - If you think I own the Hunger Games, you're an idiot. Go away.**

School _sucks._

I kick the ground moodily, dislodging some leaves which shoot into the air and float lazily down.

My teacher, Miss Poole, told me my homework was _inn-add-ee-cwat. _Now I have to do it again!

Fat chance!

It was about the new thing happening, the Hungry Games. Lamar wrote all about how it was a great idea, a whole paragraph! _He _got the golden star, even though I wrote an entire page! It took me all night to do, and I missed going out with Caspian, to the beach.

It's not _fair._

Apparently you aren't allowed to write about Fishing when talking about the games, which is _stupid. _When you're hungry, you fish. It's simple!

Mum's got all worked up about the games; she keeps giving me and Marina these big slobbery kisses all the time, even though I'm too old for that! I'm 7, and Marina's 12! She doesn't have to baby us so much.

I reach out my hand and grab a handful of dirt and chuck it into the sea. It lands with a dull *plop* and a small fish jumps out the sea.

What could I write about the games? Miss Poole, told us about them, after the broadcast on the TV.

I like TV.

She told us that we would get honour and money from winning, and from what I understand, it's a lottery. People get picked to play a game, and the winner gets paid. Like that gambling game my dad used to play. I muse for a moment about whether the losers will get anything, but I decide against it. I hate those 'well-done for taking part' achievements. They suck more than losing.

I bring out my paper – mum said I couldn't leave until I'd done the work – and begin to write.

_The Hungry Games are._

I stop to think.

_The Hungry Games is a game show wear peoples play too win the game and get paid lots of money. I wood like too be enterered into the game as I wood like too bee rich like the prezzident. If I one, I wood spend all my moneys on a MASSIVE house, way bigger than Lamar's, beecauze he is a smeely stoopid_

How do you spell 'idiot'? I sounded it out

_Ideeot. Hee wood loose and I wood get all off his money. Their four, _

I smile; I used the word 'Therefore'! I've got to get good marks now. It's not _my _fault my spelling sucks. Mum says I try hard, but Miss Poole says I am just stupid.

_the Hungry Games is a gud thing as I wood bee rich and Lamar wood_

Did I spell 'Would' wrong? I correct myself.

_Wud be daed. By Mags Cascade. (Aged 7 and a halve.)_

I smile again, Mrs Poole would like that! I look at the date on the Calendar as I skip in. Two weeks until the Hungry Games. Maybe me or Marina will be chosen, and then we can be rich!


	31. Female Morphling

**New one! Thank you for an actual review! Another would be nice :)**

**Disclaimer - When I rule the world, I will own the Hunger Games. Until then however...**

The first time I had a nightmare was the first time I cried. It was the day after I won, the victory tour was still far into the future, far enough for me not to have to worry about it yet. I was still in a bit of a daze about winning to be honest. The first victor from District 6 for about 10 years. Whoopee for me. I was one of the most interesting tributes anyway, the Careers were pretty boring too, getting 8 at the most in training. _I _got a 7, higher than half of the Careers, and almost the highest in the games. I da**red** to beat them. I still don't know why they gave it to me, as I sucked with the throwing knives, the shot where I pierced the **red** camouflage paint, spilling it over the dummy I kicked over, well that was an utter accident. I was aiming around a yard away. That shot got me all the sponsors, that got me that knife. That knife. Maybe I'm psychic.

I got **red** all over that knife on the very first day.

I was told not to run to the Cornucopia, I did, Yada yada yada, I got a knife, I got a pack, I was sprinting away. The small boy from 2, who was apparently 18, approached me with a massive sword, bigger than him. He got a 6. He swung it at me and I jumped aside, and stabbed the knife into his abdomen.

The **red** went everywhere.

I ran away. He tried to kill me. I found a tree, climbed it and waited, for something.

* * *

The next day, I leapt down, and went hunting. I found a rabbit, and then I ate it and killed it. My second kill in the Arena. Joy. I was just about to kill another when I heard a scuffle. I turned around and saw the kid from 7. I threw the knife at his head.

The **red** started to scream.

The girl from 4 was next, her blood filled up the whole lake.

The **red** hamme**red** from within me, trying to escape.

The boy from 9 or 10, he got caught in my snare.

The **red** had found a weakness.

The final two. Me and my District Partner.

The **red** exploded everywhere.

All because of a missed knife shot. All because of it.

I cried that night. I hadn't cried before. I was tough; I was the tough District 6 girl. I went to sleep, and the **red** consumed me. The murde**red** stood Around me, **red** streaming out their eyes. I wept **red**. Everything was **red**. I tried to explain and no-one listened, no-One understood why the screaMing was **red**dening and coMing for me. I was in pain, the **red** hurT, so I told the **red**Man that I waS in pain, and he gave me some stuff for iT.

It made the pain go away for a bit.

But when **red** returns.

I Cry again.


	32. Male Morphling

**Now for the Male Morphling.**

**Disclaimer - If I owned the Hunger Games, don't you think I'd have better things to do than write bad fanfiction?**

I hated Petro when I first met her, because she was ruining any chance I had at winning. She was a morphling addict, everyone knew that. Almost every person in District 6 dislikes her; she's the reason most of our tributes don't make it that far in the games. She gave up on life, gave up on the lives of all the tributes she's had placed in her care. She was the reason I was going to die.

I was angry at Petro the next time I met her because she refused to give me any advice, she told me it was better to die then, at the Cornucopia, then to win and become like her. I told her I would never be like her, and that if I won I would be strong, and I would actually help my tributes to survive. I stormed out the room, and left her to her colours and drugs.

I pitied Petro while I was in the games, after I made my first kill. After I became a murderer. I realised why she wanted to forget the games, and why she thought it was better for me to die in the games, early on, then to kill someone and then slowly decay inside from that point on.

I sympathised with Petro when I finished the games, as my insides turned to ash and blackness. I needed colour in my life again, I needed to remember how it was before my soul was ripped out of my body. Petro understood. She knew what I needed, and gave me it.

The pain went away for a while, what I wanted, but it came back.

Petro was there to help.

We stopped the pain together, helped to return the colours to our insides again. The colours left me, and I watched the colours swirl around my head. They moving towards Petro, orbiting her head.

It was a sign.

We sat there together. She was trying to forget the past, while I was trying to remember the past. The real past.

The other mentors looked down at us, as we took the easy way out. We didn't face the truth, and we were both glad for it.

We also became one around the same time, no longer Petro and Ore, but just 'The Morphlings', we were one, and we were happy for it.

But in the next quell, we were forced to return, to the place we were both trying to forget. I watched her cry, and wished I could stop it, but the other victors had taken the pain-destroyer away, to 'help' us. I wished I could get more, and my insides turned blacker and blacker by the day. We stayed together, swirling the colours into the colour our minds were before the games sucked the shades out of them, and hid them away.

I loved Petro when we entered again, though I am still not sure if she knows it yet. I hope she does.


	33. Johanna

**What did I say about 1 story every two days? I said that? OK, that's for _next _week, but I WON'T BE BACK UNTIL NEXT SATURDAY! This means _NO _stories from Friday-Saturday. 8 whole days. Please remember, I will be back, I'm just going away for the summer holidays. I also have a holiday not long after, but I'll update whenever I can, I'm sorry! Please forgive me! Now read Porcelain Mask! Now...**

**Disclaimer - I would argue the second greatest force in the universe is ownership - Chris Chocola (No, I _don't_know who he is either)  
**

I really should wash my knife.

I was pretty damn lucky to get it in the first place, and it was a pretty close call at that too.

It's all that _psycho _from 1's fault I didn't get to the goddamn axe in the first place! I would be back in 7 by now if it wasn't for him attacking me in the first place!

The plan was going to work, no-one believed I could do anything, my district partner included. Exactly how I like it.

I put my short hair behind my ears and go over to the river, to wash the blood off, and to refill the bottle of water. I have just screwed the lid back on when I hear a rustle behind me. I spin around, holding the knife out, until I remember that I am an 'utter wimp' and I hide the knife, and make myself look as small as possible, like I did in the interviews.

Before I burst into tears.

"Who's there?" I say in the most pitiful voice I can manage, slowly hiding the knife up my sleeve.

I take a step cautiously forward when something leaps out of the trees at me. I shriek, the fear in my voice not even faked this time, as a large tribute lands on me, pinning me down.

I pretend to cry.

"Wello ickle Jowannakins!" the tribute above me says, and I recognise the leering face as the guy who _stole my effing axe!_

I try to keep my temper down, and sob again. "Please don't kill me."

"Owh, Jowannakins" he purrs "I'll bwe hawing a wickle bitty of fwun first!"

He picks up the axe, _my effing axe! _And holds it over me, looking bemused.

"What first Jowannakins?" he asks, baby voice gone now "your legs or your arms"

He looks over me, and I reach my arm back towards the knife. Slowly, so slowly.

"I think your arms first, don't want you to pass out and miss the fun!" He says, smirking.

As he raises the axe, I grab the knife out of my sleeve and leap out the way of the falling axe. In one fluid movement, I grab his shoulder and thrust the knife into the other shoulder. He falls, gaping, to the ground, and I stand over him, showing my true height for once.

"What?" I ask him, mockingly "Did you really think 'ickle jowannakins' could do that? God, you're as stupid as you look."

He pants on the ground, looking shocked.

I grab the axe out of the ground where he dropped it. I think he's District 4.

I bend down and whisper in his ear one word. "Beg."

His eyes open in horror.

"P-p-please" he stutters.

"Say it again?" I ask, toying with the axe.

"please." He whispers. He looks his age, 14 again. He's younger than me.

"One more time? Just for me?"

"Please" he says, quieter than ever. "Please don't k-kill me".

I smile.

"Too late."


	34. Blight

**I just got back! On Friday, I'm going away _again _so I'll keep on 'til Thursday. Anyhoo, I had no idea how old Blight was, so I made him pretty young and whingy. Shockingly similar to me actually, but I try not to let it show :P**

**Disclaimer - U like? I like! I no own. U no own. Collins own. Collins sue. I no money.**

"I'm _thirsty" _I moan at Johanna, who gives me a dirty look.

We've been wandering about the whole day, trying to find some water to drink. As well as this fruitless search, I've been _trying_ to complain about us _not _finding water, but still managing to fail miserably. I would have complained more if it wasn't for the evil looks Johanna keeps sending me every time I open my mouth.

We walk, stooping slightly to avoid low hanging branches, while trying to keep Beetee's limp form stable. Wiress is skipping along in front of us, humming some song, which leaves me and Johanna to carry Beetee.

My throat feels like the desert in the 72nd Hunger Games, my games. I won a couple of years after Johanna did, though my strategy was decidedly different to hers. I was even offered to join the Careers that year, after I showed proficiency with an axe. The same proficiency allowed me to gain a 9 in training.

The same proficiency which I used to…

No.

I turn back to Johanna, and open my mouth to complain again.

"No" she says, stopping to re-adjust the dead weight of Beetee arm on her shoulder.

"But-"

"No" she repeats "Shut up"

"I'm-"

"I am holding an axe, and we're in a fight to the death, so shut up." She repeats, closing her eyes in annoyance. "We're all thirsty, so stop _whinging_. You're _18_, so stop moaning like a 5 year old!"

I scowl at a tree in front of me, as Johanna keeps moving.

"It's not my fault we don't ha-"

A thick drop of liquid splats on my face and I stop talking, and turn to Johanna.

"Rain!" I say, turning my face skywards as the water begins to falls with more intensity, I can feel it dripping off my face.

I swallow it eagerly, revelling in the metallic taste of-

I spit out the liquid, looking in horror at Johanna, who seems to have come to the same conclusion as me.

"Blood"

The red is starting to cloud my vision, and we run forward, struggling under Beetee's weight as we try to shelter our faces with our arms. Wiress is ahead somewhere, and we follow her blindly. I try to spit out the world 'shelter' but the blood acts like a gag, and all that comes out is a retching sound. Johanna seems to understand and we continue on, away from the Cornucopia.

It's got to end somewhere? Doesn't it?

I stagger onwards, letting Beetee's weight fall in my panic to escape the suffocating blood. I sprint onwards, tripping past Wiress as my eyesight begins to fail.

"Watch out for the chink!" Wiress calls to me, her voice muffled from the blood.

I keep running, not understanding or caring what she is saying.

Through my red-tinted eyes I can make out a gap in the rain, and I stagger forward towards it.

"No, the chink!" Wiress calls. I run on.

The world explodes around me.


	35. Cecelia

**Update of the day number 2! Thank you for my second review. Could I possibly have another? :) **

**Also, I have 15 stories stored up, and until my exams are over I'm going to have to use them. So I have to write a million after my exams! Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer - I claim dis.**

When my first child was born, I cried.

Not out of happiness for the life I had just brought into this world.

Not for the pain that I had gone through for her.

Not even for the pain they might have to go through.

I cried for myself. How I might have to see this bundle of love die, perhaps torn by a mocking teenager's knife.

While I have to watch, after training her to survive. It would be my fault.

I named her Briga, after worry.

* * *

When my second child was born, it was a different matter.

Snow had promised me safety; and safety for my children.

I only had to go to 'special' meetings. It hurt me to do it, but the alternatives were much worse. Any mother would have done what I did. I was a true and proper mother to him; I cuddled him, kissed him, and told him every day that I loved her. I named him Drazan; meaning precious.

* * *

Today my third child was just born, around 8 hours ago. I want to cry again.

Snow told me today the deal was off, no-one wanted a mother, despoiled goods. My children deserve better than this, better than being paraded around the Capitol like I have to do every year. I hold him close to me.

We sit in the control room, blankly staring at the screen that has just told me that my tribute, the girl Marija, has died. Poisoned. She didn't go to the edible plants station, and District 8 isn't known for its wildflowers.

I leave the room, frustrated. I end up where all the mentors go, District 12. There tributes die off first, so it's the unofficial meeting room. I plonk myself down on one of the seats, my baby at my hip. Haymitch and Finnick stop taking.

"What?" I ask, intrigued and annoyed.

Finnick mutters something that sounds like nothing. I shake my head.

"It is not nothing; I have a right to know."

Finnick is about to say something, when Haymitch butts in "Look love, these games have been going on for 73 years, and they show no sign of stopping. We're going to do something."

"What?" I ask, slightly confused now.

Haymitch shrugs "We'll wait for the right tribute, and figure the rest out as we go along, but we're trying to work out who's in now so if…."

"I'm in"

He looks at me. Is that sadness I see in his face? "Love, it'll be dangerous for your kids."

"More dangerous than being a child alive in Panem? I am still in." I argue back

Haymitch nods, and takes another drink of whisky. Or something alcoholic. It's always alcoholic.

"You're choice love, but don't blame me for what happens"

I smile a grateful smile, and leave, taking my baby with me. I can make her future better for her. I _can _change the world. For her, them. I could do anything.

I named her Nada, after hope.


	36. Maysilee

**Someone asked for this, and I really can't remember who, sorry! Also, I'm going to have to go to every two days or so updates, as I have exams (so close to holidays...) and I can only write on Friday nights, and I've been writing 3 or 4 then to last the week! OK? So you're not judging me? Thank you! Now, new chapter of Porcelain Mask is up! If you like Zombies... Well I'll say no more :) It's also reached a landmark, at 50,000 words! That means it's half done :D! The last chapter was technically Zombies, but this one is more Dou-ing, if you get my drift! Are you still reading this? Why! Go read this or Porcelain Mask! OR BOTH! :O**

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games. I do own Porcelain Mask. Go read it. Now. Or I will come and stab you.**

I walk through the forests, holding my blow-pipe in my hand.

I'm prepared to use it.

I killed my first perso… _tribute_ 4 days ago, after I shot them in the neck with this blow-pipe. I recognised them too, Tassel from District 1. She had killed before, I saw her torture one of the boys from 6 to death.

I listened to him scream from the tree I was hiding in, unable to do anything. Eventually a cannon replaced the sounds of his screams.

The hovercraft picked up his body, and she stayed there, sitting up, playing with his District Token.

I don't think I could have done it if she was asleep.

I position the dart – conveniently poisoned with nectar from the blood red plant next to me – and give it a sharp blow, sending it straight into her neck.

The cannon went off a few seconds later.

And after that, a silk parachute floated out of the sky, carrying the first good meal I had eaten for days. A reward if you will. The silk of the parachute reminded me of a dress I have at home, and I held it close, wishing I was back. I almost cried. Almost.

Crying's more or less suicide here.

And right now I'm looking for someone else to kill.

_It could have been worse; she was a killer, and her District partners, Tinsel, Pierce and Trinket. They probably deserved it._

Again, probably.

I hear a clashing sound from my right, around 100m away, and it sounds like a fight. I should probably stay safe, far away. It would be better to stay away.

* * *

It takes me about 30 seconds to get through to the battle, and it would have taken less if it wasn't for the thickets and trees that whipped past me, not to mention the fallen logs I have to dodge around or jump over. 2 cannons have rung out in those 30 seconds though, and when I get there, I am surprised to see 4 people I recognise. I only learnt a few names, of the Careers mostly.

The people that stand, lie or sit in front of me are all the remaining District 1 tributes, Trinket and Pierce lie dead on the floor; while Tinsel is standing over a boy I recognise well, one of the two boys from my District, Haymitch.

He holds a knife, and I sweep my eyes around the scene, deducing that Haymitch must be responsible for the girl and the boy's death.

Tinsel seems to have the upper hand now though.

Acting quickly, I put the pipe to my mouth and blow, shooting a dart into the boy's next, and he falls.

I step forward, trying to act calm and collected in front of him, even though my heart is pounding furiously.

"We'd live longer with the two of us" I say, sounding calm and in control, while feeling nothing like that.

"I guess you just proved that" he says, gesturing towards Tinsel

"Allies?"


	37. Haymitch

**Only 64 views yesterday :(** **Anyway, time for today's story.**

**Disclaimer - I own you sucka! I OWN YOU! (But not the Hunger Games)**

Dead.

Everyone's dead.

Mum, Dad, Kern and…

I still can't say her name. We were both 16, me and… her. We were going to get married. I told her so when she came to me, and held me close, told me that if, _when_ I won, we'd get married, and no-one could touch us.

But I did win.

And they did, they hurt us all, hurt them all.

Hurt me.

The president, Snow, came to me and told me he was angry, for what I did in the Arena with the force field.

They want us to kill each other, not let the Capitol kill some of us. Though that's what they do normally, it's not like I wanted to kill from the beginning, they made us.

And yet they _act _like they are impartial, watching us fight from above.

They don't harm anyone.

Except my family.

He told me, the president, that I would be punished, and that I should not expect to get off lightly.

I asked him what would happen to me, expecting whipping, like what sometimes happens in District 12 when a hunter arrives back with a bit _too _much food.

He smiled.

I'd prefer if he would shout at me. This smiling doesn't make me feel anything but fear.

I didn't even feel fear in the games.

He said that _nothing _would happen to me.

So I took the train home, apprehensive about what would await me.

I didn't think it would await _them._

* * *

They didn't come to meet me at the station.

That's what made me worried first.

* * *

I found my mum first, sprawled in the hallway, mouth open in surprise from the shock that must have arrived with the gunshot to the head.

I vomited then.

I walked forwards, more scared than I was than during all of the games, even when I was holding my guts in.

My dad was next, sitting by the door, a small hole in his chest, where his soul and life escaped during his final moments.

The door is the door to my little brother's room.

I felt my legs give in at that point, and I slid to the floor, shock replacing the blood in my veins, not Kern…

Kern's only 11.

God no…

He's only 11…

He's too young for the games, and they still managed to kill him.

My fault.

* * *

That's when I ran over to her house, to find her. She'd comfort me, and tell me that everything would be OK.

She was always the mature one.

But her mum was the one who greeted me at the door.

If you call that a greeting.

She was crying in the doorway, and that's when I knew.

They had taken everyone.

_Everyone._

My mum, dad, Kern and now…

Her.

I still hadn't cried, and when I went in to find her, blood-soaked and pale as death itself, lying on the floor, looking like Maysilee did when she died.

No, not her too…

Please…

Laurel.


	38. Darius

**I really need to write more of these, I've got two stored up as I'm taking an idea from the comments and writing about all of Johanna's kills. Thanks for the idea! Anyhoo, here's Darius' one, which was actually one of the first written, along with Katniss and Prim, but I haven't got round to publishing them yet. So, does anyone have ideas about what to write for the other's chapter? I know for Peeta I'll write about the bread moment, but apart from that my brain's blank! Help me!**

**Disclaimer - A society where Disclaimers are needed is quite saddening really :(**

I'm from the Capitol.

I really shouldn't be friends with them, we were warned about it at training, don't get close to the Districts, and above all, don't get too close to the people who live there.

Well, I have.

What are they going to do about it?

Nothing. That's what they're going to do about it because they'll never find out about it.

I'm pretty certain of that.

Well, as certain as I can be.

I'm on my patrol at the moment, a little more peeved then I should be as they've changed all the routes. New management they told us.

I sigh and turn the corner into the square in the centre of town.

Oh _shit…_

A man is standing on the stage holding a whip.

But that's not what sickening me.

On the stage is a pole, where Gale's hands are tied to, his back a mess of blood and loose skin, hanging off like bacon. Beside him is a turkey, he was probably hunting then.

I need to do something, but my feet seem to have stuck to the floor.

No…

I can't just stand by and let this happen! He does this daily! And I'm pretty sure everyone here knows what he does, and it never does anyone any harm!

I can't just let them do this to him!

I stand there, dithering for what seems hours, while both his blood and life-blood are slowly dribbling across the stage and dripping slowly off, tainting the grey snow a murky pink, like a slightly cooked salmon.

_I need to do something! I can't just stand here and let this guy kill Gale!_

"No" I whisper, so quietly it's no wonder no-one hears me, let alone the man standing on the stage.

"No." I say more firmly, as my feet un-glue themselves from the floor, and I stumble forward. The man on the stage either doesn't hear me, or just ignores me. This makes me angrier, which makes me realise who I am, a Peacekeeper. I can stop them!

"No." I say, sternly, or at least, I try to say firmly. "He's had enough. Let him go now"

The man on the stage turns to me, and I think for a second he is going to stop.

I walk onto the stage, trying to avoid the stains of blood dotting the mahogany wood.

I get closer, and the smell, the stink of iron hits my nose, and it takes all my effort not to vomit on the stage.

I still don't know who the man whipping Gale is.

He considers me for a moment, andI move closer, I don't really understand why. My legs seem to be moving of their own accord.

I reach forward, perhaps to take the whip from his hand, perhaps to help Gale. I really don't know.

That's when the man reaches his decision.

He draws back his (humungous) arm and in one fluid movement, swings it towards my face.

_Oh shi…_


	39. Delly

**Now for another one mentioned on the main page, it's Delly time! I'm really happy for all my reviews, and I was so motivated, I wrote another chapter on my laptop for Porcelain mask! Yay!**

**Disclaimer - I am a genius (_Obviously)_. Suzanne Collins is too. Therefore I am Suzanne Collins. So pay me for those Hunger Games books you bought!**

Everyone says I am the friendly person is the whole of 12, just because I smile and I'm generally quite happy. I'm not really very happy now. And 12 doesn't even exist now, does it? Even though my heart is screaming for me to stay out, I force my face into the smile it stays in most of the time.

I stand outside the room, wondering how he will be. They say he's been hijacked, that he's a different person now. I wonder whether he is still the person I fell in love with all those years ago, as he fell for a different girl.

I brace myself for the worst, and enter.

"Peeta?" He turns around, showing no signs of recognition. "It's Delly. From home."

His face lights up in recognition. I feel like crying with relief, but keep the smile on my face.  
"Delly? Delly. It's you".

"Yes! How do you feel?"

Peeta fidgets a bit now, like he does when he's stressed.

* * *

I keep the smile on my face all the way through our conversation, even in the parts that hurt, but nearer the end, things start to go wrong.

He remembers the fire.

"There was a fire…" he says this too calmly.

"Yes." I murmur. I was told to stay away from this side of the conversation, but I don't see how I can change the track now.

"Twelve burned down, didn't it? Because of _her!_" Peeta's voice is becoming louder, he's starting to shout. The boy I loved, he's changed so much. He never raised his voice, never with me.

"Because of Katniss!" He shouts this loudly, looking like he might rise from his chair. It was her fault. Her fault my parents are dead. _Her _fault.

I silence these thoughts, and in an attempt to convince myself I say "Oh no, Peeta. It wasn't her fault!"It was. _It was. _

Peeta hisses his words at me, like a poisonous snake. "Did she tell you that?"

_Yes. _My inner mind says. But I reply "She didn't have to. I was-"

He cuts me off, and begins to scream "Because she's lying! She's a liar! You can't believe anything she says!"

_No. You can't. She killed my parents. She made me and my brother orphans. She took Peeta away from you._

"She's some kind of mutt that the Capitol created to use against the rest of us!"

"No, Peeta. She's not a –"I try to convince myself again.

"Don't trust her, Delly," Peeta cries out. "I did, and she tried to kill me. She killed my friends. My family. Don't go near her! She's a mutt!"

I leave the room now, as Plutarch is gesturing for me to leave.

_He's right. She killed your family._

I half-agree with the rest of what he shouts. Maybe she is a mutt. She did kill my family.

Plutarch comes over now, looking worried.

"Are you OK?"

I smile with the smile that comes on my face so easily.

"Fine."


	40. Madge

**Madging time! Who supports Gadge? *Raises hand*. Also, feel free to use any of my disclaimers!**

**Disclaimer - He's climbing in yo window,**

**Snatching your 'HG' books up,**

**Trying to claim them so,**

**Hide Hunger Games!**

**Hide Catching Fire!**

**Hide Hunger Games!**

**Hide Catching Fire!**

**And hide Mockingjay too 'cause they claiming they own every book!**

**(But I don't!)**

I never liked to play the piano that much. Not really. My dad wanted me to do it, as he thought it was a nice 'ladylike' thing for me to learn. I didn't really agree, but I did it anyway. I didn't really want to disappoint my mum anyway, she wanted me to do it too, and she tells me that I sound like Maysilee when I play. She's my aunt, and mum tells me she died of tuberculosis when they were both 15. I asked her why her family couldn't afford medicine, but she brushed me away.

I am playing the piano, when I hear a knock on the door. Gale. He has started coming round recently, ever since Katniss returned from the Hunger Games, or, more precisely, when she returned with Peeta. The first time he came round was just after the shock ending of the Games, he stood in the doorway and asked to come in. We made idle small talk, and then confessed all. His feelings for Katniss mostly, but other things too. We talked and he left, but not after I told him he could come whenever he wants. He said yes.

But back to now.

I smile and answer the door. He's good company, and I haven't exactly had friends before, except Katniss, and she's still in the Capitol. We talk about Katniss' return today, and I reassure him with whatever I feel will help. I tell him Katniss obviously doesn't like Peeta, she had to do what she did to survive. I don't know if I believe it, but I think that it's better that Gale does. The conversation moves on to tesserae, and I listen to Gale's rant about it, and how it creates divides in District 12 between the rich and the poor.

I raise my eyebrow. "And of course, you don't do that at all, which is why you said I'd never go to the Capitol all those days ago on reaping day."

We spend some time in quiet, but not the awkward kind. A few minutes later, Gale breaks it.

"I'm going into the mine next week"

I look up surprised. I know he's 18, but already? I think some of my thoughts must have shown on my face.

"Worried for me?" He asks.

"A bit" I admit. "Just…. Be careful there."

He smiles "I will if you want me to."

And then he leans over, and kisses me. I lean forward into the kiss, and Gale lifts his hand up, stroking my cheek. We stay like this for what seems like hours, though is probably just a few seconds. We break apart.

Gale stands up, looking awkward.

"I've got to go, Katniss'll be back now." He leaves without saying another word.

I feel a smile creep up on my face. And all this time I thought I liked Peeta. That was a stupid teenage crush.

I hope Peeta gets Katniss.

I hope Gale stays alone.

Selfish but true.


	41. Prim

**Prim time! No more due to Holidays (ducks pillows) sorry! Can't do more until I get back, but then, no more Holidays! :)**

**Disclaimer - MERLIN'S COMING BACK, THIS IS MORE IMPORTANT NEWS THAN A DISCLAIMER!**

"Katniss, we could still…"

"No Prim"

I sigh sadly as I look at the squirrel caught in the trap. It's dangling (mostly) lifelessly, and just _looking _at it makes me feel slightly sick.

Every second or two it jerks a leg.

"If we hurried back I could make it better…" I say, slightly desperately.

Katniss raises an eyebrow at me. "Where do you think the meat on our table comes from Prim?"

I try to avoid looking as Katniss finishes off the squirrel, wishing I could rid my nose of the stench of blood and iron.

When Katniss tells me it's safe to turn round again, the earth beneath the trap is stained red.

* * *

Luckily, I am pretty light, and I make next to no sound as we move through the forest, except for short cracks that sound when I stand on a twig. Each one sends waves of fear down my spine, before I calm myself, reminding myself that I can't get hurt, Katniss is here, and the sound was me anyway.

I can't understand how Katniss stands it here on her own. Mostly she goes with Gale, but she's been on her own many times too. Then again, she's often asked me how I can bare to be in the same room as mom when a new patient comes in. Katniss has never been good with wounds, and she tends to rush out the room as soon as she can.

I rustle of leaves sounds ahead, and I shoot forward, closer to Katniss, who now holds the bow out, pointing it at a rabbit, with thick white fur. It turns to us, and seems to freeze. _Don't worry _I think _I'm not going to… oh wait…_

An arrow shoots through the air, while the rabbit bolts, but too late. It tears through its leg, tinting the white fur red. It's not her normal good shot, but I bet that has something to do with me being here.

"Katniss…" I moan "If we act quickly, I can fix the leg, and then it'll be fine, we don't have to…"

Katniss gives me a smile that is half happiness and half pity. "Prim, you might want to turn around again."

I want to, but stand my ground, whilst the rabbit writhes frantically on the ground "Please, we don't have to do this, we can just go and collect berries or something, or maybe go find Katniss in the lakes…"

"Prim…" she begins, and I give in.

"OK, I'll just turn away."

I try to rid myself of nausea as I hear the sound of knife and flesh meeting, but it doesn't work, and I feel myself turn green.

"I'm never going to eat meat again" I mumble to Katniss.

"Yes you are, next time Greasy Sae cooks her stew you'll be the first in line again" she says, poking me in the belly. I giggle, and the nausea goes slightly.

But it's still there, and just…

No.

Never Again.


	42. Hazelle

**Disclaimer - Seeing as I got a nice review about a previous disclaimer, here's another song-disclaimer.**

**Is this a real story?**

**Is this just fanfiction?**

**It's hard to tell but,**

**I'm still escaping reality.**

* * *

**Enter new worlds,**

**Click the review button.**

**I'm just a author! I don't want to be sued!**

**Because I'm writing Slash, and SYOT**

**Lemon, Peeniss and Mary Sues.**

**But I still don't own this, please do not sue me.**

**Sue me...**

* * *

**Readers,**

**I don't own a thing!**

**But I wrote this anyway, now the lawyers'll **

**make me pay!**

**Readers! I had just begun!**

**To write but now I'm getting sued!**

* * *

**READERS! REEEEVIIIIEEW!**

**Didn't mean to stop writing!**

**If I'm not back again, I've sold my PC!**

**To pay, to pay, Suzanne Collins' lawyers!**

* * *

**Too late, my time has come**

**Sends shivers down my spine, getting sued all of**

**the time.**

**Goodbye, ev'rybody, I've got to stop!**

**Got to stop writing fanfics and go get sued!**

**Readers, oooooooh**

**Now Queen's suing too!**

**I wish I'd gone on another fanfiction site!**

* * *

**This is getting way too long.**

**Holy Crap, Holy Crap**

**181 words!**

* * *

**Just for the sake of all that's holy, review and I don't own this!**

**OH!**

******I don't own this, ********I don't own this**

**************I don't own this, ********I don't own this**

**********************I don't own this, ********I don't own this**

******************************I don't own this for the love of God!**

* * *

******************************I'm just a writer, I don't own the Hunger Games!**

******************************She's just a writer, writer of fanfics!**

******************************Spare her her wallet from being emptied!**

**Let me write more of this, will you let me write?**

**Bismalah! No we will not let you write!**

**(Let her write!) ****Bismalah! No we will not let you write!**

**(Let her write!) ****Bismalah! No we will not let you write!**

**(Let me write!) ****Will not let you write!**

**********(Let me write!)(Never) Never let you write!**

**********************(Let me write!)It was all awful! (Let me write!) Ah**

**********************No, no, no, no, no, no, no!**

**********************It was all pretty awful, Peeniss Galeniss and Slash!**

**********************Beelzebub himself called it frightning, said he, said he,**

**********************said he!**

* * *

**********************So you think you can sue me and make me not write?**

**********************So you think I can't write stupid stuff all the niiiiiight!**

**********************Oh baby, can't stop Slashing now baby!**

**********************Just disclaiming, just disclaiming makes**

**********************it right!**

* * *

**********************Now keep on reading this now, and then please review,**

**********************Now keep on reading this now,**

**********************I hope I didn't scare you ************************with this...**

**********************with this...**

* * *

**********************I hope you liked this...**

You know that girl in your class? The one every class has? Everyone else is getting crushes and boyfriends, and getting those goals in life, like 'First Date' and 'First Kiss'? And while all that's going on, there's one person who just sits at their desk, with their head down, doing the work the teacher set, while everyone else ignores it and just chats?

Well, that girl is me.

I'm 17 years old, two more years and I'll have to find work, either in the mines, or being a full time mother. Neither of those options seems likely, as I have yet to have a boyfriend, and I'm too 'intelligent' for the mines, according to my teachers. They tell me to aim high, and start a business.

Nice dream? Maybe.

Possible? No.

No-one in the seam leaves the seam, you stay there until you leave in a coffin, or go to the Capitol and leave_ there _in a coffin. Working hard probably is pointless too, but it gives me an excuse not to look at _him._

Caleb Hawthorne.

I've had a crush on him for as long as I can remember, but I've never done anything about it.

I know it's stupid, he won't treat me different if I ask him out and he says no, but something holds me back.

I really don't know what.

So when he talks to me, I answer like he's anyone else, but he isn't, not to me.

He's currently packing away his things, as it's after class now. I slowly put my book into my dusty bag, to give myself an excuse to watch him out of the corner of my eye.

I bend over to pick up a pencil, when I hear a voice behind me.

"Hey." It says

I turn around, trying not to go red. He talked to me. _He talked to me!_

"Hi" I say, as calmly as I can.

Caleb fiddles with the pencil in his hand, before he says "Look, I've noticed you a lot in class…"

He's noticed me a lot? _He's noticed me a lot!_

"…and I just want to, to say…" he stutters, before stopping, looking like he's lost his train of thought.

"Look, would you like to do something, like go somewhere I know?" He says, more firmly now.

Caleb Hawthorne just asked me out.

He asked me out.

I realise I haven't answered him so I say, perhaps too quickly "Yes. I mean, if you want to…"

He grins "It's a date then, I'll meet you at the meadow at 8 tomorrow. If it's OK with you I mean."

I nod, slightly bemused.

He just asked me out.

He turns and walks out the door, and I cannot tell if it is an accident or not, but his hand brushes mine for a second. Either way, I can feel _something_ causing through my veins.

I could fly if I wanted.

It feels like my entire life has been leading up to this.


	43. Gale

**One more Hawthorne to go after Gale's! Now, enjoy this!**

**Disclaimer - Give me a second I**

**I need to get my story straight**

**My keyboards getting worn down 'cause**

**I'm typing at a too fast rate**

* * *

**My readers they are waiting for me**

**To publish once again**

**My seat's been taken by some lawyer**

**Saying I've given myself pain.**

* * *

**I know I started writing months ago**

**I know you're trying to review**

**But between the views and subtle hits**

**The lack of my disclaimering**

**You know I'm about to be sued!**

* * *

**So if by the time you've read this**

**And I forgot a disclaimer**

**I'll be sue-ue-ue-ue-d**

* * *

**SU-UE-UE-UE-D**

**I'll be SU-UE-UE-D**

**It'll all be your FAULT.**

**YOUR FAULT.**

**THAT I'M POOOOOOOOR!**

* * *

**(All your fauulllllllllllllllllllllt!)**

It's cold at the moment, and the Hob isn't exactly the most windproof of places. I pull up my hunting jacket as far as it will go, but still I shiver in it. District 12 is pretty far north, and the snow that's falling outside threatens to freeze into hidden, slippery ice. We'd better get back before that happens.

Katniss and I have just got back from the woods, with a good haul, 6 squirrels and a large rabbit. Pretty good considering we were walking in a foot of snow. We didn't have to worry about getting lost though; we just followed our tracks all the way back.

We divided them up, 4 squirrels to me, and she got the other squirrels and the rabbit. It seemed pretty fair, as the rabbit was humungous.

Darius stands next to Katniss, teasing her as always. He's older than me, though he always acts younger. Guess growing up in District 12 makes you grow up faster.

"I should really get it for free you know, as my company should be enough to pay for it, by anyone's standards."

Katniss rolls her eyes, and Darius gives her a cheeky grin.

"Well, it is a big rabbit; maybe I am offering to low. What about a kiss? A kiss for one rabbit? You drive a hard bargain."

Something stirs inside of me, like the feeling you get when a hovercraft flies right over your head.

Though that's only ever happened once.

I can feel anger rising within me, and I feel my hands subconsciously curl into fists at my side, ready for a fight that doesn't exist. I can recognise the signs of fight-or-flight, the adrenalin being released into my bloodstream to kill my hunter, the predator chasing me.

But there is no predator.

Just Darius.

It hits me like I've walked into an overhead branch.

Jealousy.

I've never really felt jealously before.

Sure, I've been envious of the richer Districts, or the merchants who can live in near-safety in their larger houses. But envy feels nothing like jealousy.

Jealousy feels like acid, burning through your body and mind, bringing forth images of the past and the pretend. Images of Darius and Katniss, but mostly Katniss are forefront in my mind.

But why would I be jealous?

It's not like we're a couple or anything.

Yes, we hunt together, but our relationship is completely platonic, nothing romantic at all. We're more like a brother and sister, I look out for her.

Is that what's happening now? Am I looking out for her, is that why the thought of her and Darius makes me angry?

She's just your hunting partner, that's why you're angry.

She's just your friend, that's why you're angry.

She's just your crush, that's why you're angry.

I'm a good enough liar to know when I'm being lied to, and this is one of those times.

Who am I kidding?

I love her.

Now how can I tell her without her hitting me?


	44. Rory

**Another Hawthorne for ya! Now thanks for the reviews, and keep them coming. Did you read Porcelain Mask? No? I'm ashamed of you. *tuts***

**Disclaimer - Thy owneth not thy worketh of art, thy sueth not!**

Younger sibling syndrome. Every younger child has it, some worst then others. The older one's continually thinking you're still a baby, and nothing gets done. I'm 13. The same age of the youngest victor of the Hunger Games. I'm not a child. I'm the same age Gale was when he took over responsibility for our family. And he refuses to let me into the woods with him, refuses to teach me to hunt in case I get hurt.

Well he can't see me now, can he?

I stand by the fence, holding the rope and string I snuck from the box Gale keeps under our bed. My dad taught me some basic snares when he was alive.

I look at the fence, a barrier separating myself from adulthood.

No point waiting, right?

I pull up the fence and slip under it.

That was easy. I look around, nervously. It seems to be darker here. I walk forwards, holding the rope close to me.

I follow a natural path, occasionally leaving a piece of string tied to a tree, just in case I get lost. I really don't want to get lost here. Around 12 I settle down and try to make a snare, the basic kind for rabbits dad taught me. It's been a while since I've made it, and it takes 7 attempts to get it right. But finally, I do.

I stand back, admiring my work, proud of what I've made. I try some more complex ones, but despite my efforts, the traps collapse. I surrender and check the sky and see that it's around 2 now, so I decide to head back. Gale finishes work at the mines at 5 on Saturdays, and I _really _don't want him to know I've been here, so I turn round and start to walk back to the fence.

* * *

Crap. I should have used string that was a brighter colour than mouldy brown. I got lost around 40 minutes after leaving, meaning I _was _about 10 minutes from the fence, but I might be going in the wrong direction. I sit down on a log, and try to think logically. Gale and Katniss come, no, came, here every Sunday and they didn't get lost, so there's got to be a way back.

The seam's to the west of the victor's village, so the sun rises behind it every day, and they run parallel, so to get out I need to walk… south. I look up, South's behind me. I whirl round, and walk that way. It's probably about 4 now, after I got lost for an hour, so I need to run.

I jog the entire way back, and arrive at the merchant's side of town. That's 20 minutes away from home, so I must have ended up going round in circles. I sprint back home, and just manage to chuck the remaining rope under the bed when I hear the door open. Gale. I exhale, that was close.

Never again.


	45. Vick

**Thank ya for the reviews! Maybe I can have 4 this time :)**

**Disclaimer - FOR GOODNESS SAKE! GET IT INTO YOUR HEAD! I. DON'T. OWN. THE. HUNGER. GAMES!**

I'm the forgotten one.

I'm the one no-one ever remembers.

Gale's the one that's important, that looks after the family and keeps us all fed.

I'm not trying to whinge, but it's not like _we _ever got the chance.

Rory used to be like me, but now he's getting taught how to hunt to, and then he'll replace Gale as the one to care for us all, for the one that my mum will compare me to when I put the smallest toe out of line.

He's not that much older than me, he's 14, I'm 10. 10 isn't that young, especially when you live in the seam.

Posy's 4, and so everyone pays all the attention to her, if they aren't going on about the two golden children, Gale and Rory.

Mum says she doesn't have favourites, but it's pretty obvious she does.

Today, Posy finally recovered. She had the flu, and we were all pretty scared about what might happen, and mum spent all her spare time working to get money to help make her well again. Gale went out hunting to raise money too, while Rory went out to try and find some odd-jobs he could do, at 14, he was old enough.

Guess who was left behind to listen to the sounds of their sister falling more and more ill?

Your right. Me.

I know I'm probably being ungrateful, I should be so happy that Posy's better again, but…

But.

They all look so happy. I'm sitting in the corner, pretending to be absorbed in other things while the rest of the family are celebrating. They don't even seem to notice I'm not there.

Does anyone?

School was yesterday, and once again, the teacher forgot my name. It's not even like there's 50 people in the class! Only 10 of us do History, and he has no trouble remembering everyone else's name.

It got worse.

"And you are…" the teacher enquired, looking at me through bleary eyes.

"Vick, Vick Hawthorne". I replied, for what seemed like the millionth time this week. Why can he _never _remember my name?

"Hawthorne…" the teacher said, looking thoughtful "Hawthorne as in Gale? Or Rory? Your brothers are the cousins of our latest victor, if I remember rightly, cousins of Katniss Everdeen! You must be so proud of your brothers!"

I wasn't sure if he said that stuff about my brother's being related to Katniss on purpose, or whether he was just an idiot. He probably was an idiot to believe the story that Katniss is our cousin, but either way, I felt anger rising up inside me.

But I kept it inside, because if there's anything I _don't _need at the moment, it's mum comparing me to the _perfect _Rory, who never gets shouted at.

So that's why I'm here now, leaning against this wall, having a sulk.

I'm 10 years old, and already a professional sulker!

Maybe Gale's right, the Hunger Games do make us grow up too fast.

**Thank you to the following people '265' 'hoperedock' 'Don't Call Me Sparkles' 'LilyDistrict4' 'AbbeyMellarkAlways' 'TheSecondMockingjay' 'Preci0usGem1' and 'The Fancy Unicorn'.**

**The award for best reviewer of these 16 chapters is... '****TheSecondMockingjay**' If you want to win the award, try suggesting characters, and if I choose them or find them cool, I'll choose you! I have no-idea when I'll do the award next!

**Keep Reviewing!**


	46. Posy

**Here come the Hawthorne's! I'm starting with the youngest first. Now, I'd like reviews for this story, but my other story (which is longer and has taken up _way _much more of my time) feels neglected and lonely. Do you want that story to be lonely? No, so go R&R**

**Disclaimer - Yesterday, I woke up, and went to find the toilet in the massive palace I own, with the gold-encrusted doorknobs on every single door. As I reached forward, I noticed these were merely brown. With shock, I realized I was no longer the rich, Suzanne Collins. In horror, I spun around, taking in the diamond-less surroundings.**

**"Oh no..." I muttered. "How can I write my brilliant stories now! I'm no longer Suzanne Collins so I might get sued by myself!"**

**Full to the brim with fear, I sprinted out the room and down the stairs, the priceless Picasso's no longer there, only dreary family photographs. Luckily, I managed to find a phone that wasn't infected with poor-itis and I rang up my publishers.**

**"Hello?" They asked, and it took me a few seconds to catch my breath.**

**"I... My life is.. Ah... No longer the... auth... owner... Help... Please" I panted into the phone.**

**"Do you mean to say an alien/government official/magician/convenient plot device has swapped you from your real life to become a normal person like everybody else? Perhaps to teach you a moral message about judging others?" The phone asked urgently.**

**I nod.**

**"Yes then, I can tell you are nodding even though this is a crap phone with no video at all. And you didn't-say-but-sort-of-implied-and/or-I-am-telepathic you're afraid you can no longer write stories about the Hunger Games for fear of having your underwear sued off. Literally that is, the lawyers are slightly perverted" The phone informed me**

**I nod again, lucky thing I'm good at explaining myself.**

**"Well, don't be worried, just write an over-long-full-of-plot-holes-and-half-the-length-of-the-story Disclaimer, and you'll be OK!" The phone chirped happily.**

**"Yay!" I said, and without thanking the phone, I hung up, and went and wrote fanfiction, safe in the knowledge I probably wouldn't be sued for copyright-infringement, but I might get banned from Fanfiction due to an over-long-full-of-plot-holes-and-half-the-length-of-the-story A/N.**

**Then we all lived happily ever after.**

**Apart from the phone, which I sold for scrap due to poor-germs.**

**Now, actually time for the story!**

I stare up at TV with excited eyes.

Mummy said Sila will be on TV tonight, and that I don't have to watch.

But I really want to. I want to be a famous TV presenter, who gets to be on TV.

Sila is my best friend. She told me so twice, once when she was watching me and I asked her if she was my best friend, and again after she was selected to be on TV. Mummy used to pay her to watch me when Daddy was still alive, and even though she doesn't do it anymore, because Mummy doesn't have enough money. I told her that I was 3, and so I was a big girl! I can look after myself.

A loud noise comes from the TV, and it takes me a second to realise it is words, with little words written beneath.

_The…Seventy something Games._

I smile proudly. I read that! I turn to tell Mummy that, but she's looking a bit worried, so I turn back to watch the TV.

There is a flat, brown field, with cracks in it, with a big Gold horn in the middle, full of objects like food and bags. Right near the golden thing, I can see a bow, like the one Katniss showed me.

I like Katniss.

A trumpet sounds, and I smile, Sila will be here soon!

She rises up on a circle, like Mummy taught me. C-I-R-C-L-E.

She looks nervous, maybe she is worried she'll mess up her big chance on TV?

More words are in the background, and I recognise a few.

50. 30. 15. I realise they are counting down when it gets from '10'. I learnt how to count to ten, and Gale gave me an extra portion food.

At 0, a loud noise sounds, making all the people standing in the circle sprint forwards, like a race!

We have those at home to, but Gale always wins, though Rory's getting faster too.

I see Sila's head bobbing through the people, towards the golden thing, running to the bow which I saw earlier. She picks it up, and runs away again. That's odd. In a race you want to get somewhere first, not go mostly there, and then go away again. I wonder whether the race is a different one, like you have to touch the golden thing and run away. But Sila didn't touch it.

She's running away, fast, black hair fanning out behind her, and someone is chasing her.

They're playing 'It'. I'm good at 'It'. The boy was catching up with her, holding a knife like the one Mummy cuts bread with.

The boy holds the knife up, and throws it at Sila, and she ducks, but still impales her, in the back. She falls, and her fall is joined with a loud boom!

Sila pretends to be dead.

Mummy starts to cry, and I try to comfort her. It isn't real, Sila's just acting. She wasn't actually _dead_.


	47. Boggs

**One more left :( After this story, I'll be gone for a week, and then back for a few days, then gone again! Just warning you again, and I _will _be back, I've got 4 or 5 written still! Also, the below information about Nuclear Weaponry may not be _entirely _correct, so don't go testing it on any cities! You promise? Good...**

**Disclaimer - I own everything, but the bad men say I can't tell you this *hahaha* they say they'll take my freedom away! Away! *rocks back and forth* they said I was mad! Mad! Me, little old me, mad as a hatter. I don't have a hat, maybe I should have a hat, a fez! I need a fez. I'm funny, fezzy! FEZZY!**

District 13. We're lucky I suppose. We don't have to obey the Capitol, we don't have to follow their rules.

We don't have to be in the Hunger Games.

And yet…

Life doesn't seem right here.

I've lived here for all my life, 43 years, and I've hardly ever seen the sun. Except on missions, but we don't really have time to 'admire the scenery' when were out.

* * *

_FLASHBACK!_

And when was the last time I was on a mission?

Never. We just practice, day in, day out, training.

I'm 27 and still I sound like a damn teenager, whining to myself, but it's true.

When will any of this training come in useful?

I just want to get out there, and overthrow the Capitol, and stop the Hunger Games. I think it's on 54 now, and that's almost twice as long as I've been alive. It's too long.

And we _could _do something about it! We could just nuke them for crying out loud. I told Coin this, she's only 8 years older than me, and yet she seems so important.

She _acts _all important.

See? I'm whining again.

She told me it would be stupid.

"Why?" I ask, trying not to let the anger seep into my tone of voice.

"Because" she tells me in a voice one might use to talk to a 5 year old "they wouldn't just _sit back _and let us nuke them."

"Well" I say, in an equally patronising voice "why not nuke them so hard they are in no fit state to nuke us back?"

She exhaled noisily "Because they can _tell _they're going to be nuked. They have sensors, as do we. If we nuked them, they would have enough time to shelter the people that matter, and send a nuke back."

I tried to argue back "but we live _underground_. The nuke wouldn't affect us"

"Nuclear radiation." She says "is not stopped by stone. Normal radiation might, but the Capitol's been experimenting for a while now in District 2. Even if it didn't get through the stone, we wouldn't be able to go to the surface."

"We've been living underground for over 50 years!" I say, in a very blasé way. "What's another few years?"

She grits her teeth "with their current nuclear weapons, I'd make it more like 100 years. You'd be dead before you'd see the sun again."

I try to think of something, but fail. Coin takes advantage of my silence.

"Boggs, you're my friend, but seriously, we have to wait for the right moment"

I can feel myself losing my temper "And how long will that be? 10 years? 20? How many people will be dead by then?"

Coin's still calm "How many of us will be dead if we strike?"

"There's no such thing as 'us' and 'them'!" I retort angrily, before storming out the room.

The urge to do something to stop the Games is overwhelming.

But I can't.

I end up waiting 20 years.


	48. Coin

**Last one until I get back from Italy, then back from Wales, _so many holidays! _Anyway, this should do you for some time, so use it wisely!**

**Disclaimer - This chapter contains flashing images.**

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I turn to look at him, and give him an ice-cold look, which causes him to blanche. Like he should.

"We have to put a damper on their moral, and this will do that" I say coolly, as the man struggles to think of reasons why I am wrong.

"But there…. I mean… there're other… that's to say… I mean different ways to do… _that_." He stutters slightly. Perhaps in fear.

"Remember the games?" I say calmly "Who killed children? I'm pretty sure _we _didn't host battles to the death for the amusement of the rich. This is war."

He squirms under the gaze I give him, but continues to argue back "It won't just be the children. What about the medics? _Our _medics! The ones we trained! We'd be killing our own people, just to create _fear_?"

I sigh, wishing I had Boggs here still; he was almost a friend to me at one point, but now.

Now he follows the Mockingjay. And the Mockingjay _will _follow me, after this.

And this _idiot _is not going to stop me.

I use my most patronising tone of voice as I say "Acceptable losses. It's important for the other side to fear us, to stop the people fighting back."

I close my eyes, remembering something Snow (the 'president' if you can still call him that. What does he run now? A small, _broken _city, surrounded by enemies) said about fear and hope. True. Though he went about it the wrong way, I can't deny he had the right ideas about some things.

"But still-" he says, unsure.

"But still what?" I say, starting to get irritated. "It's for the greater good! What are 3 or 4 medics compared to the thousand or more that have died due to the games? Or the people who would have died in the bombing of District 13 if it wasn't for the warning we got?"

He tries one last time, to change my mind as he says "But do we have to stoop to their level?"

I try to contain my anger, to keep presenting the cool, calm exterior.

"Yes."

He gives me a look, and blinks a few times, before packing his papers away, determined not to look at me.

"So you won't change your mind?"

"No"

"And you're _sure _there's no other way?"

"Yes"

He sighs, and passes a sheet of paper over to me, containing the order that will make the Mockingjay bend to my will, and fight more against Snow.

I sign it, quickly, and pass the paper over to the nervous man, who gives it a quick look, before nodding, and putting the sheet in a briefcase.

He finally leaves the room.

I smile and lean back in my chair.

"Let's put the fire out."

* * *

Upon consideration, killing the Everdeen girl's sister wasn't the best idea ever. Then again, hindsight is 20/20, and more so when someone's shooting an arrow at you.


	49. Snow

**What I'm doing now is writing the Hawthorne family's Quintis, so I can publish them all at once, though I can't think of Gale's! Any ideas?**

**Disclaimer - I owneth this not.**

Poison.

It's so simple. Why didn't I think of it before?

I need to climb up this metaphorical ladder, reach the top. Who cares if nameless, faceless people have to fall off to their deaths?

Which brings me back to poison.

What other method of murder can kill so secretly, leaving no physical mark whatsoever. I would never be caught, it would be blamed on rotten food, or infiltration by the idiots in 13, but it would never be traced back to me. Not Coriolanus Snow, head Gamemaker, just 26 and still jewel of all of Panem. I would be the obvious next President with the idiot Allardyce out of the way.

He's too soft. Allowing the districts to vote for the tributes? Stupid idea, mine was better, more _effective _at stopping dissidents. All we got that year was street-children, thieves and careers; everyone was dead within the bloodbath apart from the Careers, no fun at all.

Shortest game ever.

And no-one worthwhile died, only those the Districts didn't want.

I wanted to send in twice the number of tributes. And when I'm President, that's what will happen. The President always changes the Quell card, every year, and the idiots in the Districts are too stupid to know or care about the subtleties of the Quells. They really think some people years ago wrote out millions of ideas of what we could do? They had no idea the games would be a success! Who would have thought we would be planning the 26th Games right now? No opposition at all.

Poison would be simple to get hold of too, I could just say I need it to test for the next games, the 26th, and no-one would question me. I always come in here with an Avox to test this week's particular trap on.

But how could I make it look like food poisoning?

Obviously everyone eating with him must get the 'food poisoning' and die, but that doesn't matter, the only time I could get poison into his food is if he was eating with me, so I would have to eat the poison too. I could bring the antidote with me, in fact, that would be better, I could 'fall sick' but miraculously heal, I could drink the antidote later, no-one would suspect a thing. So the food-poisoning it is. Botulism sounds like a good poison too, it even causes food poisoning.

Perfect.

I'll sneak down in 4 days and spike the salmon mousse, we eat together that night, me, Allardyce and some other important people. Even better, no opposition for leader if those powerful ones are gone. Everyone eats the salmon mousse, and if I eat some, no-one will suspect me.

It'll be an accident.

A _tragic _accident.

And I'll be in charge, and like always, I'll do a better job. People will wonder how they survived without me, instead of that idiot Allardyce. Panem would be better off, but more importantly, I will be better off.


	50. Seneca

**Next one! Seneca time!**

**Disclaimer - **

**Hey, you just read this,**

**and this is crazy,**

**but I don't own this,**

**so don't sue me baby!**

I have committed the unforgivable.

I have let the Games be beaten.

I always knew I would pay for it, and that time has come now.

I almost consider running away, before I get to the room, but common sense takes over. Maybe he won't kill me?

That seems unlikely.

How could I let 2 _teenagers _defeat the Games, the Capitol, _Me?_

And as I have already said, now I am going to pay for it.

I knock on the door to the study, the room where people are often sent, and no-one in the Capitol misunderstands what it means to be 'sent to Snow's office'.

I wish I did in a way, so I could pretend this isn't going to happen.

As the door opens, a vivid image pops into my head.

"_And now, for the big finale folks!" I smirk, gesturing to Claudius to make the announcement._

_They think they've won._

_Nobody wins._

I shake those images out of my head and enter the room. Snow is facing away from me, looking out the window.

"Seneca, I'm assuming you know why you've been called here?" He asks calmly.

I nod, and say "Yes, I do."

"_The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour."_

_They stand still, shocked at what has happened. They thought they could win it together._

_I'm going to get promoted! Best games, EVER!_

"Then you'll understand my predicament" he says, turning to me. "You broke the rules; you allowed both of them to win."

_The fight has begun! The girl draws out her bow, and the boy chucks his knife in the sea. Obviously he wants her to win. Not him._

_I watch them bicker, refusing to kill each other. They will eventually, but if they don't, we've still got some wolf-mutts around._

"I know" I say, trying to stay calm.

"And you already know what I am going to say" Snow says, looking at me calmly.

"_Listen, we both need they have to have a victor."_

_The girl stands there, shocked. Then an expression that I've seen on tribute's faces before._

_That expression is never good._

_That expression is of rebellion._

"Yes." I say, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

"_On the count of 3" The girl says._

_They're going to kill themselves! God! What am I going to do? Should I let them die, or live?_

_Live or let die?_

"_1"_

_If it doesn't have a victor, I might be lynched._

"_2"_

_But the same could happen if I let them live._

"_3"_

_The room around me is in chaos. Someone is asking me what they should do. _

"Then you should know the date. October 4th." He says coolly.

I should argue. He just sentenced me to death! But I don't, I walk out the room slowly.

"_STOP" I yell. "Let them live"_

Let them live.


	51. Plutarch

**The Hawthorne's are done, and now for a nice, drunk Plutarch! The song-disclaimer was *drumroll* Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen.**

**Disclaimer - I cannot think of any songs to make a disclaimer out of, so here's some quotes from Portal! (Best game ever!)**

**The Enrichment Center is committed to the well being of all participants. Cake and grief counseling will be available at the conclusion of the test. Thank you for helping us help you help us all.  
**

Dull, dull, dull.

I swig another mouthful of punch in the corner, as the boy from 12 throws weights around the room.

Pretty impressive

But not as impressive as this punch.

And I'm expected to find a person to be the martyr to our cause? In this group of people?

I get another bowl of punch. Haymitch is right about _something _then.

Seneca tells the boy, Pita or something, to go, and I feel like laughing. Pita? He makes bread.

I giggle to myself, and some of the other Gamemaker's look at me weirdly.

The girl comes in, the 'Girl on Fire' as everyone's calling her. She doesn't look that 'fiery' to me.

I stifle another snigger.

She picks up the bow and arrows, and I pay some attention, until she misses entirely. I roll my eyes. 24 tributes, and no-one (apart from Careers) of any note. Maybe the ones from 11, but the giant's too quiet to be the Mockingjay. The girl wouldn't win either, so no luck there.

More punch is the solution.

I pour myself some more, spilling a bit.

Can the punch be the Mockingjay?

Punch. The word punch means 'hit' and this is the Hunger Games, and I'm drinking punch! It's so funny, isn't it?

I giggle again, and turn to the pig. It's a beauty, specially ordered for us, and we look forward to it every year. A glistening sauce drips off it slowly, and I feel the spit pooling in my mouth.

I step forward to it, looking forward to the joy of devouring…

HOLY CRAP!

The apple flies out the pig's mouth, embedding itself in the wall. I scream and stumble, attempting to get away from the haunted apple. It wants to kill me! I trip, and fall into the purple punch.

SPLASH!

It's only now, sopping wet with punch, that I realise that the apple is not haunted, and that an arrow is protruding from it. That must mean the girl…

I turn to her, still in the punch bowl, and see her looking livid, holding the bow by her side. We should have paid more attention to her, but really! Rude!

I'd be angry if I wasn't so drunk.

I giggle again, and wonder if I could drink the punch while still sitting here, it's pretty comfortable.

"Thank you for your consideration." The girl says, coldly, before walking out the room.

Everyone immediately starts to discuss the events, while I sit in the punch, giggling about her name, Catniece. Is her mother's brother a cat? Some of the other Gamemakers, especially Seneca, give me a disparaging look, but they're just jealous that _I _own all the punch! I am the punch masterer!

I spend most of the rest of the night semi-conscious in a bowl of apple-and-lime punch.

When I wake up, I'm still here. No-one bothered to wake me. The apple's still stuck on the wall.

I think we've found our Mockingjay.

Now where can I find a shower?


	52. Lavinia

**Another chapter so soon? I spoil you! Now you _have _to review, right? Right. Also, please put on alert, because this is going to update A LOT and QUICKLY. OK? Good Now feast your eyes on...**

**Disclaimer - President Snow belongs to Suzanne Collins. She can keep him.**

I had to run.

I held onto Alto's hand as we sprinted through the woods.

* * *

We'd travelled for days, and we were decidedly worse for wear. First we went travelled on the hovercraft I stole from my father, and then by the train we managed to sneak on. All of these got us to District 12, where we waited until night-fall. At nightfall we snuck out and across the dishevelled district to the forest I had heard the driver talk about.

That was terrifying enough as it is, but then we had to spend the night in the forest. I was terrified, but Alto kept his hand on mine the entire night. In the morning we were hungry as well as on the run, so we searched around for game, not that we really knew how to pick it up. We did find a snare with a rabbit, and we took the rabbit and ate it over the fire Alto finally got started. I snuggled up to him, and he stroked my hair.

I don't know why no-one understood why I loved him. He was Avox, and I was the daughter of a Gamemaker. He served me food, and I ignored him, until that night.

I was watching the Hunger Games with my family; I supported Rye, a tiny girl from 9. She was in the final 7. Suddenly, Mila from 1 leapt out and started slamming her tiny face against a rock. I cried and ran to my room, with my dad talking about how weak I was, it's not like it's real people. I lay there, crying until he entered, Alto. He stood there, and smiled. He wrote me a note telling me that the games _were_ cruel.

Two weeks late was when I kissed him and gave him a note with one word on it. 'Escape'. Then we did. We're trying to get to 13. Alto overheard about it from the District 12 mentor. He overhears a lot as an Avox.

But now we are running. We heard a hovercraft overhead, and instead of hiding in the under-bush, we had started running. Stupid. It's my fault we ran. I panicked.

We jump over fallen logs, through nettles and poison ivy, his hand still clasped firmly in mine. I see the hovercraft falling behind, we're escaping, we're escaping…

I turn, and to my surprise I see a girl and a boy, looking worried. 'Help Me!' I mouth. But they stay where they are. Anger shoots through me.

A jerk wrenches Alto from my grasp. I turn and scream.

He's hanging dead from a spear.

No he isn't.

He can't be.

HE CAN'T BE!

A net falls on me, and I struggle to escape,

I need to get to Alto,

I need to get to Alto.

As the net pulls up,

I catch the girl's eyes.

She looks horrified.

"I LOVE YOU ALTO!" I scream out through the net's gaps.

Those words were the last I managed to say.


	53. Annie

**This was written first, or pretty close to it, and I've been wondering when to publish it! Today seems just about right!**

**Disclaimer - The bottom statement is true.**

**I own the Hunger Games**

**The two statements seen above are lies.**

Final 8. We're in the final 8. Maybe we can win this! I glance over at Caspian, who's sitting upright, holding his sword close to his body. We were lucky yesterday, lucky the Careers turned on Satin before they turned on us. We managed to get away, to the relative safety of this lake shore. We both want to sleep, but both of us are too scared. Who's left now? There's us two, Jasper from 1, Gabbro and Gneiss from 2, the girl from 7 with the axe, Rowen I think. And Fibre from 8. I think the other one is from 9 or 10, though I'm not sure.

I yawn. I'm really tired, and Caspian says I can sleep, but I don't know if I can.

"You OK?" he asks, anxious. We are actually quite good friends, even here.

"Fine, just fine." I say, smiling.

He stands up. "I'm going to fish at the lake, you can wait here if you want too."

I shake my head. "I'm coming too; I don't want to be alone now."

I jump up, and we walk over to the lake, where the sun is beginning to poke its way above the horizon.

We fish for a while, before I tell Caspian that I'm going to have a seat on the sand. I rest there, watching him fish. I feel happier than I have been for ages.

Rustle.

A bush rustles out of the corner of my eye. I jump up, knife in hand. Caspian doesn't hear, and stays where he is, fishing. I begin to approach the bush, holding my knife in front of me when something small shoots out. My first thought is mutt, but it is human shaped, and carrying an axe. Rowen. She knocks into me, and I fall to the floor. I'm going to die.

She raises the axe up, and I hear Caspian shout. She glances over - recognises him as the higher scorer - and slams the axe into his neck.

He shatters into millions of pieces. I don't scream. I just need to go. Now. Now. I need to go. I pull my bones up and sprint away. I need to find somewhere to hide. Maybe Caspian will be there. I need to go, go. He'll be there. I need to go. The screams seem to be following me, chasing me over the rocks and fallen hands of palm trees. I see a small crevice on my right, a gap calling hope. I dive into it, and put my hands over my ears to silence the sound of the shattered screaming. They are swirling in front of me. I close my eyes too. I can't see them, or hear them. They're not here. I start to rock back and forth.

One thought is running through my head.

I need to hide. I need to hide. I need to hide. I need to hide. I need to hide. I need to hide. I need to hide.


	54. Bonnie

**Still doing the Hawthorne's, but if I haven't finished it by tomorrow, you'll get to read a good 'Clove' Quinti. Well, I think it's good. Don't judge me! *sob***

**Disclaimer - Look, I don't own the Hunger Games. These jokes are getting _old._**

I'm late; _really _late.

I stayed behind after class to talk to Twill, but we lost track of the time. Which brings us back to us being late.

Crap, Crap, Crap.

I'm half-running, through the shadowy streets of District 8, with Twill following close behind. Twill's my teacher, but she's not that bad, even for a teacher. We both have brown eyes. That's what made me trust her at the start.

Stupid I know.

I was scared to go to school at the start, because that meant working in the factories, and those places are bad. My brother has lost fingers there, he's got 4 missing! Twill told me it wasn't that bad, and that she would walk me there every day. She's stuck to her word for 3 years, since I started school at 11.

I've never made her late before.

I'm panting now, unaccustomed to the exertion, I spend most of my day sitting down. I vault an iron beam and keep going. Late is not good, late means a whipping. I've never been whipped. Yet.

* * *

Almost there, one more corner to go! I sprint around the aforementioned corner, and see, to my horror, that it is blocked. A pile of smoking ash and dust blocks the entrance, with a sign saying 'enter through exit'.

"Oh no…" I mutter. That's about 5 minutes away, and the shift started the same time period ago. I _am _going to be late, but how late? 5 minutes is 10 lashes, and 10 is 20 lashes. More than half an hour means the fetch-boy position for a month. Fetch boys reach under the weavers, picking up stray buttons. Half of them die a year, my cousin included. He was 12.

I sprint past Twill, not stopping to explain. She follows, also out of breath.

We manage to reach the road that leads to the entrance in record time. 3 minutes. I have 2 minutes to get in and be accounted for before I get 20 lashes. Not good.

I can see the factory looming ahead, a big, black monster, with smoke issuing from the chimneys. I wish I was from 7, or 4, or one of the natural Districts. This city of smoke and dust is horrible.

I am about to run forward when I hear a bird signing a two note melody.

The mockingjays get here too, just not the one we want to come…

Twill catches up, panting and clutching her side. She comes in time to see a pack of hovercraft slowly flying over the factory. Mesmerised, I do not wonder why.

Then the bombs fall.

* * *

I scream, remembering all that happened the week before, in the riots.

They're killing us.

_They're killing us._

That's when Twill grabs me and we run.

"What are we going to do?" I ask frantically, "My family was in there, and we were supposed to be there too. They're going to find us!"

Twill stops to catch her breath.

"I have a plan"


	55. Titus

**the mad one now! Titus! Now read and review. No-one reviewed my last chapter. You made me sad :(**

_**IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT! HUH! HUH! WeLl ThEY SaID i wAs maD! MaD bUt i'm FAR FrOm iT!**_

**Doctor - Crap, she's off her medication again. Nurse, hold her down.**

**Me - NEVER! i'm tHe PunCh maSteRer! pUncH heLP mE! PUNCH!**

**Nurse - Quick, where's the sedative? Oh, here it is.**

***Sound of injection***

**Doctor - Glad that's over... where did this laptop come from? They're not allowed to go on them.**

***Looks on laptop***

**Doctor - Bloody hell, she's been on that fanfiction site again.**

**Nurse - Not again! Still doing that stupid story? Without the disclaimer?**

**Doctor - Yeah, she could get sued! She really needs to say that she doesn't own the Hunger Games or any of the characters within it! That would begin to counteract the awfulness of the writing itself!**

**Nurse - I'll add one quickly. Does that look good?**

**Doctor - Yep! Seriously though, how does she keep getting the laptop in here?**

**Me - Mwuhahaha!**

**Doctor - Nurse, more sedative please. IN SUPPOSITORY FORM!**

**Me - I'm asleep, I'm asleep...**

***Hasty snoring sounds***

In front of me, there's a girl.

Small, I'd say 13 or 14, and that dark skin means either 10 or 11.

I think 11's girl is dead though, so I'd say District 10 girl.

I haven't come across anyone since I ran from the Cornucopia, with my knife and sword, I didn't want to have to confront her.

I grip the sword tightly. Could I kill her?

Well, I have the ability to, but could I bring myself to do this to a girl that's the same age as my sister?

I have to. It's the Hunger Games, and I have to learn to kill now, before it's too late.

I hold the sword up high, wondering whether I will collapse or vomit before the job is done.

The job of murder.

Taking a deep breath, I jump out from behind the rock and slam the sword into the spot where she was standing seconds ag.

She screams – a soul-wrenching, fear-filled scream – which almost makes me reconsider.

Almost.

I swing the sword at her again, and she leaps out the way, desperately trying to make it to relative safety of the caves.

I can't let her escape now.

I can't seem weak.

I jab with the sword, but I can tell the force isn't enough to kill, but still a sickening squelch rings out with another scream.

She's alive, but probably won't be for much longer.

Trying to keep my breakfast of stoat inside me, I look away as I draw the sword out my first kill, and prepare to do it again.

"I'm sorry" I whisper to her "They made me"

I then swing the sword at her head.

Why is it still screaming at me?

It's dead.

I swing at it again, and again, until it has no mouth to scream out of.

How do I stop it?

I want to crawl into a ball, put my head in my hands and block out the noise, but I don't think that will work.

I slam the sword into its face again, even though the cannon rang out minutes ago.

It's still screaming.

_I need to make it stop_. I think desperately.

It may be screaming without its face, but maybe if the rest of it goes…

But where would it go? She's still screaming so the hovercraft will not come.

This rocky place is bare, and I cannot touch it, not without vomiting.

A sickening thought fills my head, and I brush it away, I couldn't do that, not even to stop the screaming…

Or could I?

It's the Games, there are no rules, and they broke the rules when they let the dead body scream at me after its time.

Ignoring the lurching in my stomach, I bend over the screaming carcass.

I draw out my knife and dig it into the abdomen, preparing to become a victim of the games.

They say the games only have 1 victor.

I disagree.

Everyone dies in the games.


End file.
